


Footsteps of the Fallen

by LessAttitudeMoreAltitude



Series: Daiima AU [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game), Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Angst, Child Abuse, Child Soldiers, Collars, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force sensitives all have daemons/daiima, Gen, I'll be adding other characters as they come up, Implied/Referenced Torture, Inquisitor!Ezra, Seventh Sister Is A Creep, Soooo much angst, Torture, daiima as I call them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 66,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26288494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LessAttitudeMoreAltitude/pseuds/LessAttitudeMoreAltitude
Summary: It was simple really. Prove that he could complete this mission on his own, and he and his Asset would be free from his master's clutches.He was IC-13. He was a weapon. He lived to serve the Empire.
Relationships: Ezra Bridger & Kanan Jarrus, Ezra Bridger & Seventh Sister, Hera Syndulla & Sabine Wren, Kanan Jarrus & Sabine Wren, Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Series: Daiima AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814311
Comments: 89
Kudos: 184





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> And here it is, my next longfic project! Inspired by His Dark Materials, this is an Inquisitor!Ezra fic in a Star Wars Universe where all Force sensitives have daemons (called daiima in my 'verse). 
> 
> The prequel, Tethered Fate, is a Cal Kestis focused fic in this same 'verse. It's not necessary for this fic, but does give some cultural and informational context to how daiima work. 
> 
> Special thanks to Dessa for beta-ing my work and letting me bounce ideas off her^^

Commandant Aresko stared at Minister Tua as he tried to process what she had said. “An Inquisitor? What does that even mean?”

Tua cleared her throat, smoothing her tunic down. “I admit, I’m not _entirely_ sure. But since you and Taskmaster Grint seem to be struggling to bring in these terrorists that have been plaguing Lothal, Governor Pryce has requested specialized help for the upcoming Empire Day parade.”

He cleared his throat nervously. “I know we have had a few… incidents recently, but Taskmaster Grint and I are more than capable of securing the parade.”

“Be that as it may, the Inquisitor is already on his way,” the minister replied shortly. “The only name I was given was his designation: ‘Eye See Thirteen’. He is scheduled to arrive in half an hour. You are to give him your full cooperation.”

Aresko frowned. “And does this Eye See Thirteen have a rank?”

“I have been told to consider his authority to be coming directly from the Governor herself.”

Aresko bristled at that. He was supposed to hand over the control of all his operations to another officer with a title he had never even heard of? But if this was an order directly from the Governor, he had very little choice in the matter. “Very well, Minister.”

“Excellent,” she said, standing up. “You and Taskmaster Grint will meet him in Bay Twenty-Three. Good day.”

She left, leaving Aresko in the uncomfortable position of having to inform his partner of their new boss. He sighed, signing off his computer and getting up to do just that.

Fifteen minutes later, he had an angry taskmaster yelling spittle in his face. “What does she _mean_ that we’ve been ‘struggling’? Last time we even got visuals on the insurgents!”

“Yes, but ‘visuals’ still isn’t an arrest,” Aresko said dryly. “The same crew has been disrupting our supply lines and attacking our troopers for a few months now. Perhaps this Inquisitor could finally give us the edge we need to catch the fiends!”

Grint grunted, his expression twisted in disgust. “But you said he’s only gonna be here for the parade. There’s no way he could get these guys in just a coupla days.”

Aresko sighed. “Perhaps you’re right. But we have no say in this. We will bite our tongues and give the Inquisitor our full cooperation.” He leaned in meaningfully and lowered his voice. “Otherwise it will be on our heads.”

“Fine,” Grint growled, tossing his datapad to the side and getting up. “I guess let’s go meet this _Inquisitor_.”

They made their way to the hanger, arriving at Bay Twenty-Three just minutes before the Inquisitor’s scheduled arrival. “How are we supposed to address this guy anyhow?” Grint asked. 

“I think we’ll be safe if we stick to ‘sir’,” Aresko said quietly. 

They both straightened as a specialized TIE fighter approached the hanger. Aresko had never seen a model like it before. He could see it actually had a shield and extra missile shells installed on either side of the cockpit. Its wings were curved, and they folded in on themselves as it landed.

Grint leaned over a little and whispered, “Where’s the transport it came with?”

“It probably just stayed in orbit,” Aresko whispered back. “Now hush!”

The hatch on the TIE opened, and they waited for the Inquisitor to climb out. Instead, they were taken aback as a black blur _leapt_ out through the hatch, landing right in front of them. Aresko’s eyes widened as the Inquisitor stood… and only came up to the middle of his chest. 

Aresko and Grint exchanged a quick glance. This Inquisitor wasn’t just short. He was obviously a _child_. Even with the sleek black armor and the circular metal device on his back, he didn’t look any older than twelve. Aresko was almost afraid Grint might say something in a bout of indignant outrage, but then the Inquisitor looked up at them with a glare. His eyes were an unnatural and sickly yellow, in sharp contrast with his light brown skin and lank black hair. They practically glinted as his gaze flickered between them. “Who’s in charge here?”

Clearing his throat, Aresko stepped forward. “I am Commandant Cumberlayne Aresko, head of security in Capital City. This is Taskmaster Myles Grint.” 

And then, just when he thought things couldn’t get more baffling, a parrot droid floated out of the cockpit along with a brown and tan _lothcat_. The droid floated down and rested on the Inquisitor’s shoulder while the lothcat jumped down to the ground and settled by his boots. 

“Um…” Aresko cleared his throat as he stared down at the animal. “Sir, you are, of course, aware that pets are forbidden under The Domicile Animal Exclusion Act.”

“This is not a _pet_ ,” the Inquisitor growled. “This is my Asset. Now…” He walked past both of them, the lothcat keeping pace with him. “Give me all the intel you have on these insurgents.”

“Y-Yes, of course. Follow me to my office, and Taskmaster Grint and I will debrief you.” Aresko hurried in front of the Inquisitor to lead the way. He was silently grateful that Grint seemed to be for a lack of words. Apparently the Inquisitor was terrifying to him as well. That made Aresko feel a bit better. Everything about this child was unsettling. His stoic demeanor, the unnaturally quiet lothcat trotting alongside him, the droid chirping and snapping its claws… it was all just a bit much.

“We are fairly certain it’s the same group of vagrants responsible for all these incidents,” Aresko began, pulling up the relevant files. “And just the other night, we got our first… visuals…” His voice petered out as the lothcat jumped up onto his desk. He couldn’t help but curl his lip in disgust. They were all filthy and feral strays. He waved his hand at the animal. “Shoo… _shoo_ …!”

The Inquisitor’s eyes flashed, and the lothcat suddenly _swelled_. Aresko jumped back with a yelp as the creature’s body suddenly covered the entirety of his desk. Spines had sprouted from its back, and it snarled at him with a widened mouth filled with sharp teeth as its long twinned tail whipped through the air. 

Aresko’s heart was pounding in his ears as he pressed himself back against the window. He glanced over and saw Grint similarly cowering against the wall as he stared at this giant predator on his desk. The Inquisitor was completely unfazed, staring at Aresko expectantly. “Continue with your report, Commandant.”

Aresko swallowed hard, staring at the creature - or _whatever_ it was - with wide eyes. It was now large enough to bite his head clean off. “I…” He looked down at his datapad but was unable to properly read the words. 

The Inquisitor rolled his eyes before he snapped his fingers. The creature shrank again, its body transforming back to the striped lothcat, sitting at the edge of the desk. 

“W-What…?” Grint visibly swallowed. “What _is_ that?”

“It is my Asset,” the Inquisitor repeated slowly, as if he was talking to a simpleton. “Do you know _why_ domesticated animals are forbidden within the Empire?”

Grint just shook his head, his eyes glued to the lothcat. Aresko piped up in his stead. “I-It’s because the Jedi kept pets.”

“They were not _pets,_ ” the Inquisitor snarled. “They are physical manifestations of the Force, intrinsically linked to their Force user.”

“Th-The… The Force…?” Aresko echoed.

The Inquisitor gave a tired sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not here to _educate_ you. I’m here to bring in the insurgents that you and your incompetent troopers have failed to capture.” He raised a hand, and the datapad suddenly flew out of Aresko’s grasp and into the Inquisitor’s hand. He looked bored as he typed something on it, the droid snapping at the pad’s surface. “This is my frequency. Just send me the reports.”

After dropping the datapad on the desk, he turned and left with the lothcat close behind him. The office was eerily quiet, both Aresko and Grint frozen in their shared horror and consternation. 

What the hell just happened?


	2. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thirteen's mission is simple: monitor the events of Empire Day and apprehend the dissidents that have been terrorizing Lothal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the first part was just a short prologue, I figured I'd go ahead and post the first full chapter.
> 
> I think after this, I'm going to try and post a chapter every couple weeks

Thirteen had to force himself not to clench his fists at his sides as he walked back to his TIE. It would be seen as a weakness, and with his master’s droid digging into his shoulder, that wasn’t an option. He had only just earned this bit of freedom, and he would rather die than risk losing it now. 

He had to admit, it was enjoyable to order other people around for a change. He knew from the moment he jumped out of the TIE that he made the officers nervous, but watching them cower in fear as his Asset had transformed into a nexu had filled Thirteen with a satisfying thrill. 

When he returned to his TIE and jumped inside, Thirteen was pleased to see that the Commandant had already sent him the files. There was a report for each incident, which were barebones at best. Just a time, location, and list of supplies stolen and of Imperial property destroyed. Only the last report had any useful information. While there were no holoimages, there were descriptions of the three individuals involved: small helmeted figure - presumably female - in colorful mandalorian armor, a green skinned female twi’lek in pilot’s regalia, and a human male with long dark hair pulled back in a nerftail and a large scar along the right side of his face.

The droid finally detached itself from Thirteen’s shoulder and settled on the console, its red eye pointed directly at him as he worked. Thirteen managed to ignore it and maintain a facade of nonchalance. Thankfully his master wasn’t actually _here_ , so she couldn’t sense his apprehension or the jolt of anxiety that shot through his stomach everytime the droid chirped or snapped its pincers. As powerful as he had felt terrorizing the two officers, he knew that it was his master’s droid that had all the power here.

There was a pressure on his leg, and he didn’t need to look to know that it was his Asset. She had a scaled paw on his thigh, and he could sense that she was trying to comfort him. He knew it was out of view of the droid, but he couldn’t react. Affection with one’s Asset was a weakness. One that had likely contributed to the Jedi’s downfall. 

[ _Ezra…_ ]

That had Thirteen kicking his Asset away from him with a small snarl. What was she _thinking?_ If his master had been here, that alone would have resulted in them being locked away in the Boxes. 

His Asset whimpered, her ears low against her head as she crawled away from him, curling up in a far corner of the cockpit. 

Thirteen’s grip on the console tightened. He didn’t want to act this way. He didn’t want to do this to her. But she knew as well as he did that if his master noticed even the tiniest deviation from their training, they would be called back to Nur. The tight band of metal around his neck was a constant reminder of that.

The same was true if they failed at their mission, so Thirteen took a deep breath and focused on the intel. His mission here was simple. Monitor the events of Empire Day and assure that things ran smoothly. If the insurgents were to strike again, he was to apprehend and bring them in for questioning and execution. 

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much intel to go off of. These insurgents had been at it for months, and this was all they had? No wonder the Governor had requested specialized help. They didn’t have any leads on where these insurgents were taking refuge or what resources they might have. From the reports, they hadn’t even suspected that they might have a leak. How else would the insurgents be getting their information?

Thirteen sighed, turning the holo off and completely powering down the TIE save for a small emergency light in the corner for his Asset. As the TIE went dark, she crawled over to it gratefully, basking in the light. For his part, he laid just behind the pilot’s seat on his back, folding his hands on his stomach as he closed his eyes. 

Tomorrow was Empire Day. Tomorrow was the day he proved to his master and the Inquisitorious that he was a worthy servant of the Empire.

* * *

Minister Tua had scheduled a slew of events for the Empire’s fifteenth anniversary. There was a full market of pre-approved vendors selling a variety of celebratory knick-knacks and foods. There was a large stage where Imperial troopers could show off their skills, and the best of Lothal’s pilots were flying in a variety of complicated formations throughout the entire day. And of course, the crowning event would be the parade at dusk. 

Throughout it all, Thirteen kept to the rooftops. Even if he could somehow ‘blend in’ to the crowd, he also knew that the locals would not look very kindly on his Asset. Tua had tried very hard to make sure most of the stray animals of the city had been captured and destroyed before today’s events. And Thirteen remembered how his fellow Lothalians would treat the strays they happened upon. 

No. Not _fellow_ Lothalians. Just Lothalians. 

His Asset kept to the sky in the form of a tawny convor, circling above the festivities and keeping an eye out for anyone who matched the descriptions of the insurgents as Thirteen jumped from building to building doing the same. The parrot droid followed him almost leisurely in a manner that reminded him of the way his master moved. But just like his master, he knew that beneath the elegant demeanor with which it moved through the air was the ability to make him suffer in a split second. Usually without preamble or warning. 

But he was supposed to be working. The droid wouldn’t hurt him just for the fun of it while he was actively serving the Empire. That much Thirteen took comfort in. 

The other troopers on duty steered clear of him, which suited him just fine. He could sense their uneasiness. Thirteen knew it was the mixture of his small stature and an aura of pressure he purposefully projected. He didn’t know how old he was exactly…

_The fifteenth Empire Day_

… but he only came up to most adults’ chests, making most perceive him as a young child. It’s why he spent so much energy on pressing against the minds of those near him. If they didn’t fear his title or his Asset, he would make absolutely certain they would fear _him._

Thirteen stood at the edge of one of the buildings as the sun began to set. His Asset was standing at attention by his boots in lothcat form while his master's droid was chirping as it scanned over the crowd from Thirteen's shoulder. People were beginning to gather for the parade. He could see the Minister and the Commandant standing at the entrance of the Imperial Complex where the parade was supposed to end. Then Tua would make a speech and the day’s events would end with Lothal’s top pilot putting on a final demonstration of the newly designed starfighter.

So far there had been no sign of the insurgents. No Mandalorians, green Twi’leks, or human men with facial scars. The only incidents of unrest were the occasional drunken native getting into a fist fight, and the troopers made quick work of them. 

The parade got underway, and Thirteen did his best to ignore the upbeat tune of the Imperial Anthem that was blaring over the speakers. He doubled his focus on the crowds, actively searching for the dissidents. At least it would give him something to do. But the music seemed to echo from every corner of the downtown area. He began to softly chant to himself to help him drown out the noise. 

“ _I am Eye See Thirteen. I am a weapon. I live to serve the Empire. I am Eye See Thirteen. I am a weapon. I live to serve the Empire…”_

It helped. A bit. 

Thirteen kept watch from his perch near the Imperial Complex. If the insurgents were to attack anywhere, it would be here at the most crowded area with the most attention. From past incidents, he doubted they would target the people themselves. In fact, these rebels seemed to be very careful to avoid civilian casualties. Their targets had all been Imperial supplies or property. Which meant the new starfighter was a prime target. 

He kept a close eye over both the officers at the end of the parade and the lane that he knew the new fighter would be presented upon. Minister Tua would be beginning her speech momentarily. With everyone distracted, that would be when they would strike. 

“Citizens! I am Minister Maketh Tua! Governor Pryce sends her regrets, but she was invited to Coruscant to celebrate with _Emperor Palpatine himself!_ ”

She made it sound like it was something special, but Thirteen knew that the leaders of all Imperial worlds were invited to Coruscant on Empire Day. He knew because his master had been assigned as protection one year, and she had told him all the details about it while he had been going through a stress exercise. 

“Lothal is just as important to our Empire as any world in the galaxy,” the minister went on. “And she wanted me to show you why.”

There was a sudden buzz in the back of Thirteen’s head, making him frown. He looked around, trying to figure out the source. It was the Force, but it wasn’t a warning. Not exactly. He would have thought it was his master trying to make contact, but this felt different. It was… softer. It reminded him of his connection with his Asset. 

“Citizens! I present to you with the latest vessel from Lothal’s Imperial shipyards: the Sienar Systems advanced TIE starfighter!”

Thirteen shook his head. The buzz was unimportant. He needed to focus. A pallet was bringing the ship up to the end of the parade.

“And who better to make this beauty on her maiden voyage than one of the best Imperial pilots on Lothal: _Baron Valen Rudor!_ ”

A pale skinned human man stepped up in a flight suit with his chest puffed out and a smug grin on his face. It was the typical haughtiness seen in most ace pilots, although Thirteen noted that the minister did _not_ call him an ace. 

There was a faint beeping, and Thirteen turned his head just before an explosion ignited in the sky. He flinched the sound and bright light, but he heard the crowd cheering at the sight of them. Blinking, he saw that the lights were a variety of colors and dancing through the air. 

[ _Fireworks_ ] his Asset provided. 

Thirteen could only stare for a moment. A part of him was wracking his brain as to how he could have possibly forgotten what fireworks were. Then he realized it must be because he had never seen them before. 

_He was giggling, his arms wrapped tightly around his father’s head and his legs dangling over his shoulders as he looked up at them in wonder_ …

Thirteen hit the side of his head with his palm. He had to focus. There was something else amiss. Fireworks hadn’t been listed anywhere on the schedule. And since they were obviously explosives, they should have been cleared through the Commandant and himself. 

Another set of fireworks went off, but this time he caught sight of where they were coming from. Three buildings over. In the alleyway. He ran towards the source, his Asset jumping and turning into a convor before soaring ahead. And as she circled the area…

[ _It’s her_.]

Thirteen couldn’t help but smirk. A second later, he was leaping down into the alleyway, landing in a crouch right in front of the Mandalorian. His Asset swooped down and took her nexu form behind the Mando, boxing her in. Before she could react, Thirteen had pulled out his lightsaber, igniting one end and pointing it at her. “I am Eye See Thirteen of the Inquisitorious. By the name of the Emperor, you are under arrest for grand theft and destruction of Imperial property.”

She slowly put their hands up. The Mandalorian’s expression was hidden by her helmet, but Thirteen could feel her indignation. She was twitching for a proper fight. Thirteen almost laughed at the idea. Keeping his saber leveled at her, he raised his wrist and activated his comm. “This is Eye See Thirteen. I have apprehended the Mandolorian and need - ”

There was a loud _bang_ , louder than the fireworks, and the ground trembled. Panic and fear rose in the Force, and moments later people began to scream. 

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, the Mandalorian pulled out her pistols and shot at him. Thirteen easily deflected the bolts with his saber, but then she rolled to the side and threw something at his Asset. The device clanked along the ground before letting out a bright bang, tossing his Asset back against the building with a hard crack. 

Thirteen hissed as pain shot through his back. He bottled that pain and let it fuel his rage as he thrust his arm out with a clawed hand. The Mandalorian choked as she was lifted into the air. Thirteen’s lip curled into a snarl as he tightened his grip. The Mandalorian's arm shook as she tried to shoot at him, but Thirteen deflected the bolt and hit her square in the chest, knocking her back with a cry. She tumbled to the ground and his Asset pinned her with her giant paws, snarling at the Mando’s helmet.

Thirteen grinned with a satisfied sigh. Pathetic. He put his lightsaber away and raised his wrist again. “I repeat: I have apprehended the Mandalorian dissident. Send a squad to the Northeast alleyway at the corner of - ” 

The buzzing in his head suddenly crescendoed, making his voice stutter. It was the same feeling as before, except now it was mixed with a warning. 

A blaster shot came from behind him. Thirteen had no choice but to roll to the side. Then the bolts were aimed at his Asset, who quickly jumped and transformed into a convor to escape harm's way. Thirteen spun around and saw a man silhouetted at the entrance of the alleyway with a blaster pistol pointed at them. 

The human. Thirteen was mentally hitting himself. He had been so caught up in finding one insurgent he lost sight of the fact there were two other accomplices to look out for. Thirteen pulled out his lightsaber as the human kept shooting at him, pinning him further back into the alley and giving the Mando an opening to flee. 

Thirteen’s breathing quickened as he watched them run. He couldn’t let them get away. This mission was supposed to be his chance to prove that he could handle working solo. If he failed, his master would call him back to Nur for more training, and he _couldn’t_ let that happen. 

He ran out after them, seeing the squad of stormtroopers had just arrived. “They can’t have gone far,” Thirteen growled. “Split up and _find_ them!”

The commander nodded and started giving his troopers orders. Thirteen jumped straight up to the closest rooftop, his Asset soaring above him. The droid floated up to him, beeping curiously. 

“Just give me a minute!” he growled. He sighed and closed his eyes. This buzzing seemed to be connected to the human. He had no idea why. Maybe the Force was actually trying to help him for once in his miserable life. Regardless, maybe he could use it to his advantage. 

He bit his lip as he focused on the feeling. It was… disturbing how similar it was to his bond with his Asset, but he couldn’t worry about that right now. Right now, he needed to _find_ them. 

Thirteen exhaled and opened his eyes. It was a thread. And threads could be followed. 

He ran to the edge of the building and leapt to the next rooftop. He ran as fast as he could, using the Force to boost his speed. The buzzing got louder as he got closer. Just two more buildings… that alley… _right there!_

Thirteen ignited his blade as he jumped down, silently ordering his Asset to stay in the air until the time was right. He wanted to corner this bastard. He landed in front of the human, who turned almost impossibly quick and ran the other direction. Thirteen grit his teeth as he ran after him. He knew there was a dead end just ahead.

Just as the human was about to pass it, his Asset dropped down as a hulking dewback and cut him off. Thirteen grinned as the man turned into the alley. He casually walked in behind him, swinging his lightsaber through the air and making it hum. He could see the human standing at the end of the alleyway, realizing he was trapped. “You are under arrest.”

The man slowly turned. As the report had stated, he had long dark hair pulled back into a nerftail. As Thirteen stepped closer, the light from his blade illuminated the man’s face. His expression was hardened and unafraid, made harsh by the large scar across his face. It stretched from the bottom of his right cheek up through his right eye, making it milky white. 

Thirteen paused in his footsteps. He couldn’t help but frown at the sight. He recognized that kind of scarring… 

“So…” the man said calmly. “They’re training children now.”

Thirteen bristled at that. “I am no child!” He pointed his saber at the human, who didn’t even flinch at the action. “You have no way of escaping. Get on your knees and put your hands on your head.”

The man’s eyes flickered to his Asset who had transformed to her nexu form. Even that didn’t seem to perturb him in the slightest. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I truly am.”

The buzzing got louder, turning into an intense pressure in the back of Thirteen’s head. “I said to _get on your knees!_ ” he shouted. Even though he had all the power here, he felt as though he had no control. 

The man glanced upward towards the sky before looking Thirteen straight in the eye. “I kneel to no one.”

Before Thirteen could respond, the man leapt thirty meters in the air. Thirteen took a step back in surprise, staring slack mouthed as the man backflipped onto the top of the building and disappeared. 

His breath caught in his throat. _A Jedi_. 

Shaken from his shock, he ran forward and leapt in the air to pursue him. He couldn’t jump as high in a single bound but it took mere seconds for him to zigzag across the width of the alley to the roof. But by the time he got there, there was no sight of the Jedi. 

Thirteen closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe deeply and try and follow the thread again. But this time he couldn’t find it. Whatever aspect of the Force that had connected them before… it was gone now. 

His stomach dropped as his grip on his saber tightened. He had lost them. Not just the insurgents, but a _Jedi_. The very people he had been trained to kill. But then he frowned. Where had the Jedi’s Asset been? The alleyway had been empty save for them. Thirteen was _sure_ of it. 

The Jedi’s Asset must have settled into some small creature. One that could fit in his clothing. It would make sense. The Jedi were weak, so their Assets were more likely to settle into weak creatures as well. 

His own Asset had settled down at his feet in her usual lothcat form. A form that his master had tried to beat out of her again and again, but she never relented. No matter how much it was drilled into their minds that this form was weak and useless, it was always her default. But even in this form, she should have no issue against an Asset as small as this Jedi’s must be. In fact, that was probably the easiest way to dispatch the both of the both of them. Then he could bring in the other insurgents easily.

But first he had to _find_ them. 


	3. The Thread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thirteen refuses to let the Jedi escape

There was the clamor of Imperial chatter rising and falling as the patrol transport drove by, lights shining in the windows of the condemned building before moving on. 

“We can’t stay here forever,” Sabine whispered. “The only reason they’re not searching the city building by building is because most of the troops are still occupied with Empire Day.”

“I know, I’m thinking,” Kanan murmured. “We can’t go out there half-cocked. Not with that Inquisitor after us.”

He could practically feel her gaze boring a hole in the side of his head. “Yeah, _who_ exactly was that guy again? You say ‘Inquisitor’ as if I’m supposed to know what that means.”

Kanan kept his expression neutral. “They’re Force-sensitive Jedi hunters.”

“Yeah, I got that much from the daiima. Which, _how_ exactly was it able to transform like that? And what are they doing _here?_ There’s no reason for them to suspect you’re Force sensitive!”

Despite the circumstances, Kanan couldn’t help the sadness that rose up in him. He reflexively smacked the side of his thigh twice in quick succession. “He’s a kid,” he said quietly. “Daiima don’t settle into their permanent form until they and their jemma reach a certain point of maturity. As for why they’re here… Given their age, they’re probably just a trainee. The Inquisitorious wouldn’t have sent them here alone if they knew who I was.” 

Another transport drove by, silence stretching between them as they waited for it to pass. And even then, Sabine didn’t respond immediately. Kanan imagined she was trying to phrase her statement as diplomatically as possible. “You’ve encountered Inquisitors before?”

“Yes,” he said simply. Kanan closed his eyes, making sure his signature was still hidden. Child or not, Kanan didn’t like his chances against the Inquisitor without Nara. 

“But you defeated them.” She phrased it like a statement, but it was obviously also a question.

“Some of them,” he said, glancing at her with a slight warning. That was not a period of his life he liked to think about, let alone talk about.

Sabine got the message and backed off. He knew she liked to be in the know, but they had made it very clear when she joined the crew: he and Nara’s past was for no one but them. 

[ _We’ll be at the city’s edge in fifteen._ ]

Kanan sighed. “We need to get moving. Nara says they’re close.”

Sabine nodded, putting on her helmet. “What should we do if we run into him again?”

“You will get out of there as fast as you can,” Kanan said sternly. “Inquisitors and their daiima are trained to be ruthless killers first and foremost.”

“And what about _you?_ ” she asked with a slight annoyed whine in her voice. 

“I’ll hold him off as long as possible. If he really is a trainee, I should be able to at least keep him occupied until the _Ghost_ arrives.”

Sabine scoffed as they crawled towards one of the exits. “Ever think you’d be outed to the Empire like this?”

Kanan pressed his lips together, not bothering to respond. He was still kicking himself for literally getting trapped in a corner. He had underestimated the Inquisitor. His ability to track a single signature through a populated city was impressive for one so young. Somberly, he pondered what kind of brute training the child had had to go through to become so skilled so young.

The Inquisitors weren’t just former Jedi anymore. Kanan and Nara always knew that this was a possibility: that the Empire wouldn’t just kill newborn Force sensitive children, but take them and induct them into the Inquisitorious. Now the first wave of kidnapped children were becoming active. Children who _should_ have grown up in the light of the Jedi Temple were now twisted into ruthless tools for the Emperor’s cause. 

It filled Kanan with rage. It was bad enough that they had scooped up surviving Jedi and Padawans and tortured them into corruption, but now they were doing the same to children who knew literally nothing else. 

[ _Kanan…_ ] Nara said softly. 

[ _Maybe we should have done more._ ] 

[ _There was nothing we could have done. Not after what he did to us._ ]

She was right, of course. Chances were he and Nara would have been swept up by the Inquisitorious too. Or just killed. Still, it didn’t make him feel like any less of a coward.

Sabine scanned through the door for any heat signatures before opening it and quietly slipping out. Kanan followed close behind her, casting away thoughts of the past. There was no use wallowing. They could only move forward. 

* * *

The main square was in ruins. From what Thirteen had been able to overhear, the insurgents had somehow rigged the new TIE to explode. While there were no civilian casualties, several stormtroopers were being treated in the Imperial Complex. Thirteen was walking around the edges of the square when his master’s droid found him. It beeped curious at him, noting that he did not have the insurgents with him. Thirteen had to keep himself from grimacing. “No,” he said quietly. “And there is… something else.”

The droid landed on his shoulders and told him to proceed, its polite tone in contrast to its legs digging in through the fabric of his suit threateningly. 

There was no use stalling. “One of the dissidents, the human man, is a Jedi.”

Snapping its pincers, the droid practically hissed. If a Jedi was here, his master needed to be informed immediately.

His Asset whimpered and stepped back, but Thirteen managed to remain outwardly still. “Of course,” he said. “In the meantime, I will continue to aid in the search.”

The droid hissed again, and Thirteen’s collar tingled in warning. A Jedi was well beyond the parameters of this mission. He was to report back to his TIE and wait for further instructions from his master. 

A spike of panic shot through both Thirteen and his Asset. They both wanted to continue the search. Even if there had been no way to predict a Jedi would be here, this mission would almost certainly be deemed a failure. Which would only mean return to his Master’s arms and her Asset’s claws. 

But there was no use arguing. The droid had all the power. “Very well,” Thirteen said quietly. Ignoring the questioning looks of the Imperials patrolling the area of the wreckage, he walked back to the dome. It took all his self control to keep his breathing even. Showing his panic would only increase his chances of being recalled. Even his Asset had the good sense to act as casually as possible. 

By the time he returned to Bay Twenty-Three, the parrot droid beeped and settled on the ground in front of him, projecting his master’s visage. 

Thirteen immediately knelt, his Asset following suit. “Master.”

“I hear your mission has taken an… interesting turn of events.”

He prayed his trembling wasn’t too pronounced. “Yes, Master. One of the insurgents - a human male - has revealed himself to be strong with the Force.”

“So you say.”

“He is!” Thirteen insisted, looking up at the holo. “I-I sensed it, and no normal man could jump like - !”

A jolt of electricity was sent through his collar, causing Thirteen’s muscles to tense. It hadn’t hurt. It had just been a warning. He quickly looked back down, knowing he was acting insolent. 

“Describe him to me,” his master ordered, her voice still even

Thirteen took a moment to regain his composure. He could tell she was losing patience with him. “I’d say one point nine meters tall. Medium complexion. Dark long hair. And a…” He hesitated for just a moment. “... It looked to be a lightsaber scar along the right side of his face.”

There was a stretch of silence. Thirteen hated that he couldn’t sense his master’s reaction, but he didn’t dare look up to try and gauge her reaction. 

Finally, she asked, “And what was his Asset?”

“I… I don’t know. Even as I chased him through the city, I didn’t see or sense his Asset. I’m assuming it’s something small and weak. Easily hidden, as is typical for Jedi.”

His master hummed thoughtfully, and Thirteen couldn’t help but glance up for just a moment. She was frowning and looked almost… confused. “Whatever the case, remain vigilant but do not pursue. I am coming to assist in the hunt.”

Thirteen’s heart leapt to his throat. “Th-That’s not necessary, Master,” he said a little too quickly. “I can find and kill the Jedi on my own. I don’t need - !”

The muscles in his neck tensed, and he only managed a gasp before the electricity shot through his body. He fell to the ground as all his muscles seized, and he could only let out choked grunts as his body jerked uncontrollably with hot pain.

When the pain faded, Thirteen let out strained pants as he forced his limbs to move. He blinked away tears as he managed to get back into a kneel even though his muscles were still twitching. His Asset was a hair's breadth away from his leg, her fear and worry sharp against his mind. 

“Your freedom has made you insolent,” his master snarled. “Perhaps you were not ready for this task. Stay in the Imperial Dome - confined to your TIE - until I arrive,” she ordered. “After we deal with the Jedi and his co-conspirators, I will bring you back to the Inquisitorious.

Thirteen’s throat closed up in fear. This meant he had failed. She would bring him back to Nur, and his training would begin all over again… 

“Yes, Master,” he managed to whisper. 

The holo cut out, and for a few moments, Thirteen didn’t dare move. But the droid settled on his shoulder and repeated her orders: get into the TIE. 

He mutely nodded and stood, groaning as his muscles protested. He instinctively slipped a finger between his neck and the collar. Even if his Master’s droid wasn’t here, there was no way of removing it. 

The three of them had settled into the TIE. The droid sat on the dash, and his Asset settled by the emergency light as per usual. Thirteen sat behind the pilot’s seat and closed his eyes to meditate. Anything to distract him from the fact that he had failed. 

_“You are worth_ **_nothing_ ** _unless we deem you to be of use. If you cannot serve the Empire, then you will serve_ **_me_** _.”_

His body wouldn’t stop trembling. His Asset’s fear was just as keen as his own and they fed into one another. They knew what this meant for both of them. Days of cramped darkness as their tether was stretched to its limit, bouts of torturous training that made them both feel wretched no matter how well they performed… 

They couldn’t go back. He didn’t think they’d survive. They would be forced to work for the Empire - or his master - with their sense of selves completely scrapped out until there was nothing left but husks.

There was a soft buzz. It was becoming familiar now. He couldn’t put a name to what it was… but he knew that following it would lead him to the Jedi. 

He clenched his fists as he made a decision. It was rash. It would almost certainly lead to being disciplined, but he honestly could not imagine anything worse than what was certainly in store for them as things stood. And if he managed to succeed - fulfill his purpose as a Jedi hunter - the Grand Inquisitor might keep his master from punishing them too badly.

Opening his eyes, he saw his Asset gazing back at him from her corner. Her fear was swelling, but he could also sense her resolve. She would follow him to the bitter end. 

So under the guise of obedience, Thirteen laid down on his back just like always, closing his eyes to feign sleep. Instead, he focused on the Force and very gently reached out towards the droid. The droid was perceptive, but it couldn’t sense the Force like his master could. He felt out the droid’s power core, and with a small sigh, he clenched his fist against his stomach. 

There was the distinct popping of electronics short circuiting and the low whine of the droid powering down. Thirteen opened his eyes, relief flooding him as he saw that the red eye had dimmed. He slowly sat up, still cautious that the droid was just pretending and testing him. His neck was stiff in anticipation of some sort of retribution. 

But it never came. 

Thirteen grinned. “Serves you right, you piece of junk,” he snarled. He knocked it off the console as he sat in the pilot’s seat and powered up the TIE. He knew the codes for this ship would read as being from the Inquisitorious and thus had the authority to take off and fly whenever he wished.

Before he took off, he closed his eyes and focused on the buzz in the back of his mind. Faint as it was, he could feel the tiny thread that spooled from it. Thirteen grinned. It would be easy to follow. Whoever this Jedi was, he was doing a miserable job of blocking his signature. 

His Asset came out from her corner, turning into a large yeomet and leaning her front paws on the dash to watch as the TIE took off. At that moment, they both realized this was the first time they had truly been alone together. Thirteen could sense that she wanted to reach out to him, mentally and physically. He kept his gaze fixed on the viewport, pointedly ignoring her hesitant prods against his mind. He had to focus on the task at hand. They _had_ to succeed in this crazy endeavor if they wanted to keep themselves from the hands of his master…

The thread led him out of the city and over the vast plains to the west. He knew they had to act fast. If he could sense the Jedi, it was likely that the Jedi could sense _him_ as well. Thirteen had to make sure he found him before the Jedi and his cohort left Lothal. 

His Asset was now sitting on the top of the dash in the form of an irid, her plumage tight against her body as she looked out through the viewport. Then her head cocked slightly. [ _I see the ship._ ]

Thirteen squinted, even knowing he wouldn’t be able to see it yet. But this was good. He was going in the right direction. It was only a moment later that a soft beeping on his console indicated a ship nearby. With no ports or settlements in that direction, it _had_ to be them. Gritting his teeth, Thirteen pushed the engines harder, careful to avoid the rock formations that jutted out of the plain’s surface. 

Then he could see it. It was a freighter of some sort, still on the ground. He couldn’t help but smirk. Even if it had been in the air, the TIE could easily outrun a ship that bulky. If it hadn’t even taken off, it didn’t stand a chance. 

But he knew he couldn’t just destroy the ship. He would disable it and then deal with the dissidents personally one by one. He had to see the Jedi face-to-face, watch the light drain from him with his own eyes. He needed solid proof that he was fulfilling his function, that way the Inquisitorious would know that he disobeyed his master’s orders for good reason. 

As he approached, he could see the engines of the freighter begin to glow as it powered up. “Too late,” he snarled, firing his plasma cannons. The successive bolts hit the ground before dotting the freighter’s engines and dorsal. By the flash of white, Thirteen saw that the freighter had shields and were currently holding steady. This ship had definitely been modified for combat. 

He quickly turned the TIE around to make another pass. No shield could last forever. If he kept up the barrage on one section, they would eventually fail. Biting his lip in concentration, he focused his fire on the aft. All he needed was one shot to break through…

In a large spray of sparks and smoke, one of the freighter’s engines sputtered and darkened as it failed. 

“Yes!” Thirteen exclaimed in victory.

[ _No wait,_ **_turn_** _...!_ ]

A spray of bolts suddenly barraged his TIE, two finding their mark on the left wing. The fighter jolted violently, and the console began screaming and flashing red as the TIE rolled uncontrollably through the air. Then there was a sudden jerk as the ship crashed into the ground. 

The world continued to spin as Thirteen moaned and blinked rapidly, trying to reorient himself. There were a few aches and pains - particularly when he inhaled - but he barely registered them beyond a footnote in the back of his mind. He looked around and saw his Asset still in irid form shaking her head and ruffling her feathers. They were okay. They just needed to get their bearings. 

Undoing the straps, he pulled the emergency lever to open the hatch before shoving it open with a thrust of his hand. He climbed out and knelt at the edge, looking around for the direction of the freighter. 

A wave of vertigo and nausea suddenly hit him, his leg slipping before he tumbled down the side of the TIE into the crater below. “No…” he moaned, trying to force himself up. He wasn’t even hurt. He couldn’t let something as trivial as _dizziness_ keep him from finishing what needs to be done. 

He felt a slight nudge against his arm, and he blinked to see his Asset in nexu form as she tried to help him up. Gritting his teeth against the nausea, he twisted a hand into her fur and used her head as leverage to get to his feet. Panting with exertion, he forced himself to stand straight as he grabbed his saber and looked over in the distance where his target lay. He could do this. He’s fought tougher opponents in worse condition. There was no excuse for failure. 

Knowing that running would end up with his face planted firmly in the ground, he started to walk. He wasn’t that far, and there was no way they would be able to repair the damage to their engines that quickly. He mentally prepared himself for this fight, trying to keep his focus and push the irritating swaying of his vision forced down. 

He was approaching the freighter from the port aft side, well outside the range of the guns. To Thirteen’s surprise, they didn’t stay hidden in their ship like cowards. Instead, the ramp of the ship was lowered and the Mandalorian and the Jedi ran out and began shooting. Most of the shots went wide, but the few that got close were easy batted away. 

The world blurred and tilted for a moment before righting itself again. He had to finish this. 

With a soft snarl, his Asset bounded ahead of him, leaping from side to side to avoid the bolts. Thirteen shoved a hand forward to stagger the two of them. The Mandalorian fell backward from the push, but the Jedi just grit his teeth and kept his balance before he took a shot at Thirteen’s Asset. She had no choice but to jump backward out of harm’s way, transforming into a smaller creature to hide in the grasses.

For Thirteen, it had been enough of a distraction. He surged forward and leaped into the air, his lightsaber pulled back to slash down at the Jedi…

… only for something large to barrel into him from the side. 

Thirteen cried out as he hit the ground hard, pain exploding through his chest and knocking the air out of him. He gasped for breath as his limbs shook, his vision nothing but a blur of grey and pale blue. He had to get up. He had to fight. 

Something entered his field of vision, large and snarling into his face. Thirteen could only continue to gasp for air as terror filled him. This creature was _enormous_. And through the Force, he could sense that their emotions were just as strong and powerful as the Jedi’s. 

This was the Jedi’s _Asset?_ That was impossible. There was no way an Asset this large could have even _physically_ hidden from him the night before, let alone in the Force. 

As air began to enter his lungs, Thirteen started to crawl back away from the giant lupine beast. Where was his lightsaber? If he could just manage to pierce this Asset’s chest, then…!

There was the tinny sound of a blaster, and everything went black.


	4. Hostage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ghost crew takes the Inquisitor hostage

“Sabine…” Kanan admonished. 

“What?! He was _literally_ trying to kill us!”

“You didn’t have to shoot his _daiima_.”

“Well it was either his daiima or risk shooting Nara. Take your pick.”

Kanan sighed. At least Sabine had the sense to have her blasters on stun. He picked up the Inquisitor’s lightsaber and secured it to his belt before walking over to check on him. Nara stepped over to inspect his daiima, her chest rumbling as she hummed thoughtfully. 

“At least this went better than last night,” Sabine said. She followed Nara and looked down at the unconscious lothcat form of the Inquisitor’s daiima. “So what’re we going to do with them?”

Kanan knelt down beside the Inquisitor with a slight frown. Looking at him in the daylight, he was younger than Kanan had originally thought. He didn’t seem to be any older than twelve. Kanan recognized the outfit and armor as typical Inquisitor attire: tight black under armor and black plasteel pauldrons and cuirass emblazoned with the white Imperial cog. But what stood out to him was the sleek durasteel collar tight against the child’s neck. 

“I’m surprised the Inquisitorious sent them after us alone,” Nara said, her nose gently nudging the other daiima. “They don’t seem very experienced.”

“Maybe it was a test,” Sabine said. “Or maybe he was acting on his own. Either way, neither of you have answered my very important question of _what we’re going to do with them?_ ”

Kanan pulled out his comm. “Hera? How’s the ship looking?”

“ _Our port engine took a solid hit. Chopper and I are working on it, but it’s going to be at least a couple of hours before we can get her up in the air._ ”

That wasn’t good. There was no way the Inquisitor was going to stay unconscious for that long. He looked back down at the boy and at the tight collar around his neck. They couldn’t move the ship, but they couldn’t just let the Inquisitor go either. Even if they managed to drop him off far away from the _Ghost_ before he and his daiima woke… The thought of leaving the child here to go right back to the Inquisitorious made Kanan’s stomach roll. 

They needed to secure him… at least until they were able to get the _Ghost_ fixed. Kanan slipped his arms beneath the Inquisitor’s legs and shoulders and picked him up. “Nara, grab his daiima. We’ll keep them in the loading dock.”

“ _What?!"_ Sabine exclaimed. 

“We don’t have any other choice. We can’t just let them go, and there’s nowhere else we can secure them while Hera and Chop work on the repairs.”

“Well… there _is_ an alternative solution…”

“I am _not_ killing them,” Kanan snarled, giving her a sharp glare. It must have been more withering than he had intended because Sabine literally took a step back from him, her eyes widening slightly. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Just… let me and Nara handle it.”

Sabine nodded, relaxing slightly. “Alright. I’m going to go see if I can help with the repairs.”

Nara gently nipped the nape of the Inquisitor’s daiima and walked behind Kanan as he carried the boy into the _Ghost_. [ _You’re going to use the cuffs, aren’t you?_ ] Nara asked silently.

Kanan cringed at the sadness Nara was radiating. [ _I have to. We can’t put the others at risk._ ]

[ _You know what these two have probably gone through…_ ]

[ _That doesn’t mean they're not dangerous._ ]

[ _Kanan… how would you have reacted if Vihi had restrained you like that?_ ]

Kanan’s stomach squirmed as he gently put the boy down, Nara placing his daiima right by his side. He walked over and closed the _Ghost_ up to cut off any means of escape. “Vihi would have sooner killed us,” he said, his voice flat. “If they wake up and catch us off guard…” He shook his head. “We can’t risk it.”

Nara slumped slightly and sighed. “Alright. I’ll watch them.”

With a short nod, Kanan quickly went up to the crew's quarters. He didn’t have many belongings from his past, but he kept them all in the small hidden drawer beneath his bunk. He unlocked the door to his cabin and stepped inside with a sigh. He could count on his fingers the number of times he had actually slept in here. 

He knelt next to the bunk and opened the drawer. For a moment, he just stared at the contents. Then he banged the durasteel edge of the bed twice with his fist before reaching in and pulling out the bulky cuffs. He wasn’t even sure why he had kept them. They were attached to all sorts of horrible memories, but they were a useful tool. He supposed a part of him knew that this kind of scenario would come up eventually. 

He just never thought he would have to use them on an Inquisitor so _young_. 

[ _You still don’t have to..._ ] Nara reminded him gently.

Kanan ignored her, stowing the Inquisitor’s lightsaber in the drawer before closing it. He relocked his cabin and headed down to the loading dock. The cuffs were heavy in his hands. Their bulk came from the technology inside that suppressed Force abilities.

 _Don’t think about it_ , Kanan told himself, a low growl emanating from his throat. He was doing this to protect the crew, his _family_. He knew exactly what Inquisitors were capable of. It didn’t matter that it was just a child. It didn’t matter that he had clearly sensed the boy’s fear and desperate rage, dredging up memories of his own wretched past…

Nara was sitting next to the boy and his daiima, her eyes fixed on the cuffs as he walked into the loading dock. “Kanan, please don’t do this…” she pleaded aloud.

He avoided eye contact with her as he knelt next to the Inquisitor. Bile flooded his mouth as he slowly pulled the boy’s wrists together, placing them into the open cuffs. 

His muscles froze before he could snap them shut, horror rising up in him. The Inquisitor’s wrists were just so _small_ , even with the layers of the uniform and leather gloves. His eyes drifted back up at the collar around his neck. He had ignored it before, but there were faint scars barely visible beneath the durasteel. Reddish spindly scars born of repeated shocks…

Kanan slowly pulled the cuffs away, his hands trembling as he stared down at the horrible contraption. 

Nara’s relief was palpable through their bond. “Between the two of us, we can keep them under control.”

As if on cue, Kanan felt a harsh buzz in the back of his head. The boy let out a soft moan, and his daiima squirmed and blinked in disorientation. She woke up first, her pupils shrinking to slits and her ears pressing back against her head as she let out a loud hiss. The Inquisitor’s eyes snapped open, sitting up like a springboard and thrusting his hands forward. 

Kanan and Nara both staggered back from the Force push. The Inquisitor reached back to grab his lightsaber, his eyes widening as he realized it wasn’t there. The Inquisitor’s daiima swelled into a nexu before jumping at Nara with a high pitched snarl. Nara sidestepped the attack before twisting back to headbutt the daiima’s side and knock her to the ground. 

The Inquisitor cried out as he was also knocked down, and Kanan took the chance to jump on top of him and pinned his arms to his back. “Calm down,” Kanan growled. 

The Inquisitor just snarled in response. He tried to throw Kanan off of him but he was twice the boy’s size. With Nara pinning his daiima as well, they were both effectively immobilized. 

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Nara said, addressing the daiima. “We have the means of restraining your jemma, but we don’t want to use them if we don’t have to.”

The daiima didn’t respond, but she stopped struggling with a low whine. 

The Inquisitor on the other hand was still struggling violently under Kanan. “No! Get _off!_ ” he screamed. 

“Not until you _calm… down…_ ” Kanan emphasized. “Nara wasn’t bluffing. We _can_ restrain you, and I promise you won’t like it.”

The Inquisitor’s breathing was turning ragged, and his rage was transforming into panic. “No! Nonono, I-I have… I have to…!”

Kanan grit his teeth. He wasn’t used to sensing others’ emotions so keenly, and the Inquisitor’s growing terror was piercing through his shields like a sharp needle. “You’ve been overpowered. You’ve _lost_.”

The Inquisitor looked over at his daiima, his yellow eyes shining with newfound hate. “Get up!” he shouted, his voice high pitched and strained with desperation. “Get _up_ , you useless welp!”

It was disturbing to see the ease with which the Inquisitor threw his anger at his own daiima. And she just took it, although she did not rise at his bidding. Instead she flinched, and cowered away from him as she shrank back into a lothcat form. It made Kanan’s chest ache to witness. This sort of self-harm was a strong testament to just how twisted and broken the Inquisitorious had made them.

Upon seeing his daiima shy away from him, something in the Inquisitor’s mind shifted. His struggling weakened into trembles, and he turned to press his forehead against the durasteel floor in defeat. 

Kanan slowly got off of him, and Nara stepped away as well. Neither the Inquisitor or the daiima moved for a moment. Then the Inquisitor put his arms underneath himself and pushed up to sit. He looked at Kanan and Nara warily before his eyes settled on the blaster strapped to Kanan’s leg. “Just do it,” he whispered.

“I am not going to kill you,” Kanan said firmly. 

The Inquisitor closed his eyes, his fists clenched against his thighs. When he opened them again, he glared at Kanan with a hate so intense it nearly knocked Kanan back a step. “You can’t keep me here forever. The moment you let your guard down…”

“You’re not going to get very far without a weapon,” Kanan said dryly. He held up the cuffs. “Do you know what these do?” He wasn’t surprised when the Inquisitor immediately paled. Taking away one’s ability to use the Force - cutting off their connection to their daiima - for extended periods of time was one of the easier ways to break a person. 

The Inquisitor swallowed as he stared at the cuffs. “It won’t matter,” he said, his voice quaking through his bravado. His daiima was slowly crawling back to his side, her body hunched low to the ground before she laid next to her jemma. The Inquisitor didn’t even seem to notice. “Even if you confine me, my master will just kill you and your crew anyway.” 

“Your master is also an Inquisitor?” Nara clarified. 

The boy jumped, looking at Nara in surprise. He quickly masked it with another glare. “My master is the Seventh Sister. She and her Asset will rip you both into pieces.”

“Asset…” Kanan echoed sadly. That would explain the daiima’s behavior. They had been taught that she was no more than a tool, an asset to be used. 

“If you know what’s best for you…” the Inquisitor went on, “... you’ll kill me right here and now before dumping my body far away from here.”

Kanan frowned slightly as he shared a glance with Nara. The boy _wanted_ Kanan to kill him. With a strange sort of clarity, Kanan could tell that it wasn’t because he was suicidal. This desire was born out of an all-consuming terror that had infected the Inquisitor through and through. Whoever this Seventh Sister was, this boy was desperate to never see her again. 

“My name’s Kanan,” he said quietly. He waved a hand over at his daiima. “This is Nara. What’s your name?” 

The Inquisitor shifted slightly. “I am Eye See Thirteen.”

Kanan pressed his lips together. “That’s not a name. That’s your designation.” 

Although the Inquisitor maintained his glare at Kanan, his eyes developed a slight glassy quality. “I am Eye See Thirteen. I am a weapon. I live to serve the Empire.”

Kanan sighed. The boy had fallen back on his conditioning. This wasn’t going to go anywhere. 

But Nara wasn’t deterred. She stepped closer to them, and both the Inquisitor and his daiima stiffened. While there were no other outward reactions, Kanan and Nara could both sense their rising fear scraping against their minds like a jagged saw. The Inquisitor’s heart was pounding so loudly that Nara could easily hear it. It all would have sent Kanan spiraling into the past if he had not been pounding his fist against his thigh.

Nara kept her motions slow as she laid on the ground, lowering her head so she was eye level with the other daiima. “And what about you?” she asked softly. “Do you have a name?”

The daiima’s eyes widened, remaining silent as she stared at Nara in shock. She obviously was not accustomed to others addressing her directly. A pit formed in Kanan’s stomach as he wondered if she even knew how to speak. 

[ _They’re so young…_ ] Kanan thought, crossing his arms across his chest. [ _It’s possible they’ve never known anything but the Inquisitorious._ ]

[ _I don’t believe that,_ ] Nara replied, still gazing at the daiima. [ _I can’t explain it, but I can_ **_feel_ ** _her in a way I can’t feel others. She wants to reach out. She has answers…_ ]

That made Kanan frown. Now that she was wording it like that, he realized that they were both able to sense these two much more strongly than they should be able to. Their shields - which they worked on strengthening almost every day - were still holding strong. At first Kanan thought that it was just because the Inquisitor was also Force sensitive. But he had never been able to sense another person’s emotions this _clearly_. Not his friends. Not Vihi. Not _him_ …

Only Master Billaba and her daiima, Parth. 

The pit in Kanan’s stomach dropped. [ _No…_ _it can’t be…_ ]

Nara slowly sat up, careful not to startle the other two as she turned to look at Kanan. [ _I think it is._ ]

“Kanan.”

He looked up to the catwalk to see Hera looking down at him. “How are the repairs coming?” 

She spared only a glance at the Inquisitor and his daiima before focusing her attention on him. “We’ve got a problem.”

* * *

Thirteen kept himself absolutely still as he watched the Twi’lek carefully. From her regalia, she was the pilot of the ship. So this must be the same Twi’lek from the other day’s incident report. The third dissident.

“Is the engine really that bad off?” Kanan asked.

“No, the repairs are coming along fine.” The Twi’lek turned to look at Thirteen. He almost looked away, but he reminded himself that this woman was _not_ his master. He would not be cowed by her. 

“Then what’s the problem?”

She turned back to the Jedi. “Chopper detected a beacon from inside the ship. And we pinpointed it to his location.”

Thirteen almost smirked, although there was nothing amusing about the situation. So they weren’t completely incompetent. “I told you… My master is coming. You’re best off if you kill me now.”

His Asset gave a small whimper in distress, but Thirteen had to ignore it. She knew as well as he did that they were better off dead than back in her hands. Hell, at this point, it wouldn’t just be her. The Grand Inquisitor - or worse, _Lord Vader_ \- would never be able to overlook his failure to kill the Jedi. A part of Thirteen was tempted to swipe the Jedi’s blaster and just turn the muzzle to his own head. But he knew he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Because he was a coward. Even knowing what their fate would be when the Empire found him and discovered that he had not only disobeyed his master but had allowed a _Jedi_ to capture him… He just couldn’t bring himself to follow through. 

“We’re not in the business of killing our guests,” the Twi’lek said. She looked back at Kanan. “But there _is_ some sort of tracker on him.”

Kanan looked at Thirteen, and he hunched his shoulders up. He hated the Jedi’s probing stare. 

“The collar,” Kanan stated. “We need to remove it.”

Thirteen swallowed, suddenly very aware of the weight and tightness of durasteel against his throat. “No,” he murmured.

Kanan and the Twi’lek exchanged a glance while Nara cocked her head to the side. “We’ve seen the scars. That collar is used to control you,” the giant wolf said. “Don’t you want it off?”

“I _earned_ this collar!” Thirteen snarled. He didn’t expect them to understand. This collar was a symbol of his freedom. It meant he was allowed to serve the Empire on his own. It meant he didn’t have to stay at his master’s side at all times.

“Well… we don’t want your master to find us, so taking that thing off seems like a better solution than just killing you,” Kanan said. 

He stepped closer, and Thirteen pressed his back against the wall. “You _can’t!_ ”

Kanan sighed. “Look, kid. I know it means a lot to you, but - ”

“No, I mean you _can’t_ take it off! Only my master’s bioscan can unlock it.”

The Twi’lek hummed, her lekku twitching. “Well, I can get Chopper to program the _Ghost_ to modulate the signal for now. But that means he can’t leave the ship.”

The muscles at the base of Thirteen’s neck slowly relaxed as the tension drained out of them, even as a dull ache pulsated up towards his head. The Empire… wouldn’t be able to track him? His _master_ wouldn’t be able to find him?

“Then once we leave Lothal, Chopper and Sabine can take a look and see if they can get it off.”

Thirteen reflexively raised his hands to his neck, tracing his fingers along the top edge of the collar. It was unthinkable. He was Imperial property. This collar signified the Grand Inquisitor’s permission to serve the Empire as a free agent. Taking it off would mean rejecting the Empire. Taking it off would mean more training by his master’s hand. 

“Kid…? Kid? _Eye See Thirteen?!_ ”

The sound of his name snapped him back into the present, his back automatically straightening as he held his head up. He blinked a few times at the figure in front of him. _In front of him?_ Why weren’t they standing? Towering over Thirteen as they gave him his next order…

Then his mind caught up to what he was actually seeing: the Jedi kneeling in front of him with a mixture of worry and caution. While the large scar made his expression difficult to read, Thirteen could sense it easily in the Force. Almost a little _too_ easily. 

“Don’t,” Thirteen ground out.

Kanan frowned. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t sit there _pitying_ me!” he practically spat. “I’m an Inquisitorial Candidate, the _only_ one of my class!” He ignored the voice in the back of his head mocking him with _why_ he was the only one. He let out a bitter laugh. “But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You Jedi are all _weak_ , so _worried_ and ready to save the day when you can’t even save yourselves!”

Kanan’s expression remained unchanged, although he heard a low rumble come out of his Asset’s chest. Thirteen schooled his expression carefully, not letting it get to him. He was a Jedi. He was weak. He wouldn’t have his Asset attack him for just no reason.

“In the meantime,” the Twi’lek said, “We need to get our guest settled.”

Thirteen frowned. What did that mean? 

“We can just lock him in the cargo bay with us,” Kanan said, standing and taking a step back. “Nara and I will keep an eye on him.” 

The Twi’lek looked uncertain at that. “Are you sure that’s going to be enough?”

“It will,” Kanan said emphatically, smacking the side of his thigh twice. “I guess… talk to Sabine and scramble up some sort of cot.”

Thirteen stiffened at that. A cot? What was a cot? His mind immediately jumped to the night frame his master would strap him to whenever he had earned it. But… Jedi were weak. They didn’t have the will to do what needed to be done, not even to their enemies. 

Right?

His Asset crawled up to his side, her ears flat against her head as she sat just a few inches from his leg. She didn’t know what a cot was either, the same thoughts running through her mind. 

The Jedi’s Asset still had her belly on the ground as she slowly crawled forward and sniffed at the both of them. Thirteen’s breathing went shallow, and he could feel his Asset was moments away from jumping into his arms. 

“We’re not going to hurt you,” the wolf said. Her rumbled voice so deep that Thirteen would have thought she was masculine if he hadn’t known better. “And beyond sealing the cargo door, we’re not going to confine you. Not unless we absolutely have to.”

Thirteen didn’t dare move a muscle, but his Asset’s head tilted slowly. Very carefully, she stepped up closer to the Jedi’s giant Asset, sniffing at her snout. It took all of Thirteen’s self control to not grab his Asset and yank her back. He had no idea how such an action would be interpreted.

The wolf’s chest rumbled again, and this time his Asset’s ears actually raised up a little and she took another step closer. 

“Get _back!_ ” Thirteen snarled.

His Asset jumped back with a whimper, her ears going back flat against her head as a tiny voice in his head went [ _Sorry sorry!_ ]

“Nara,” the Jedi said softly. “Let’s get them into the cargo bay.”

The wolf crawled back and stood with a soft huff. “Alright.” She glanced at Thirteen and his Asset with an unreadable expression before turning and walking further into the ship. “Cargo bay is this way.”

Kanan hung back as he watched Thirteen and his Asset, slapping the thigh again. He waved a hand in the direction his Asset was walking. “After you,” he said. 

Thirteen looked between Kanan and the wolf as she continued to walk deeper into the ship. The Jedi didn’t even look uncomfortable as the distance between them got bigger and bigger… And Thirteen was reminded that he hadn’t seen a single sign of this ‘Nara’ the night before. She was _enormous_ , dwarfing her Jedi partner. How was it that no one had noticed his Asset running around the city? Did they just have an unusually large range?

But those questions wouldn’t be answered right now. So Thirteen slowly stood and stiffly followed, his Asset trailing just a step behind him. The cargo bay was a larger and darker area, but the layout was also… strange. While there were a few crates strapped down in the corner, it was hard to imagine this area was used for its intended purpose. Immediately to Thirteen’s left was an area cordoned off by durasteel, with a manual door installed in it. A tall cabinet looked to have been welded to the far wall. Beside it in the far corner was a raised platform that had a pile of fabric and stuffed bags. 

This platform was where the Jedi’s Asset had curled up and settled, looking intently at both of them. “Sabine is resourceful, so she should have a cot ready for you in no time,” she said. 

Thirteen just nodded numbly as he walked to the opposite side of the cargo bay. The Jedi’s Asset… slept down here? Of course, with her size, it probably just wasn’t practical to get her to and from the cabins on this freighter. He couldn’t imagine her even attempting to climb those ladders. 

Kanan closed and locked the cargo bay door before going to sit next to his Asset. “You’re going to stay down here with us until we can come up with a better solution.”

“And what exactly are you planning on doing with me if not kill me?” Thirteen asked, his fists clenched and arms stiff against his sides. 

“I’m not sure,” Kanan said quietly. “But I can’t let you go and risk you hurting anyone.” 

“A little late for that,” Thirteen snarled.

The Jedi’s eyes narrowed in what looked like anger, but all Thirteen could sense was some emotion he couldn’t identify. Then Kanan sighed, readjusting his seat so that he was leaning against his Asset’s side. “We know we can’t keep you here forever,” he went on. “But it’ll have to do for now.” 

Thirteen could feel a painful wave of envy swell in his bond with his Asset, but he viciously shoved back down. He couldn’t handle this on top of everything else. All sorts of questions were still swirling around his head, but they were all drowned out by the deep and hollow hopelessness that was settling over his shoulders. 

What was he supposed to do now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!


	5. Treatment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabine doesn't understand why they're treating the prisoner so leniently. Neither does Thirteen.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just lock the Inquisitor in one of the cabins?” Sabine asked.

“Given that they’re Force sensitive, Kanan and Nara need to keep a close eye on him,” Hera said, making some adjustments to the steering. “It’s much easier for them to do that in the cargo bay.”

Sabine scowled. “This is _way_ more effort than it’s worth. Not only do we have to deal with the fact that he’s a _beacon_ to the Empire, but we have to build him a bed, and _feed_ him…?”

“Of course we do,” Hera said sternly, turning in her seat to give Sabine a soft glare. “The Inquisitor might be our prisoner, but we are not going to mistreat him.”

“He tried to _kill_ Kanan!”

“And _Kanan_ has made the decision to keep him confined. We can’t just let them go, not knowing what Inquisitors are capable of. And besides… an Imperial agent like an Inquisitor might have valuable intel that we can use.”

Sabine sighed exasperatedly. Before last night, she had never even _heard_ of Inquisitors. But Kanan had, and if he thought they were dangerous… Sabine trusted his experience, shrouded in shadow as it was. If these Inquisitor guys were trained to kill Jedi, there was no telling what other horrors they were capable of. Although this Inquisitor was obviously just a trainee. He and his daiima might be able to hold their own against Sabine - which was no small feat - but then they went down easily when going up against just a fraction of the _Ghost_ crew.

But still… “I have to make them some sort of _cot?_ Why not just cuff him to the ring anchors?”

“First of all, our prisoner deserves at least a simple _bed_...” Hera said. 

“So we could just cuff him to _that_.”

“And his daiima?” Hera said pointedly. “How do you plan on confining her?”

Sabine was about to reply, but then she remembered the way the Inquisitor’s daiima had transformed. Multiple times. “Okay good point…” she murmured. Although it still didn't sit right with her. 

Hera leaned forward and placed a hand on Sabine’s shoulder. “I understand your reservations,” she said softly. “But we need to trust Kanan and Nara. They know what they’re doing.”

Sabine looked away. She _wanted_ to trust them. They were certainly the resident experts on Force sensitivity. But it was also difficult when she still knew almost nothing about Kanan and Nara’s past. They always kept it close to their chest… 

Finally she sighed. “Alright,” she whispered. “I’ll get working on the cot.”

Hera smiled. “Good. Everything else… we’ll deal with it as it comes.” 

Sabine roped Chopper into helping before they got to work. They had some spare durasteel parts laying around that Chopper began welding together while Sabine got some sunshield fabric and sewed it for the top part of the frame. It was less than an hour’s work all together.

But when looking at the finished product Sabine couldn’t help but frown. “Definitely needs _something_.” She pulled out her paint sprayer and began to coat the durasteel frame with black as the base. After contemplating it for a moment, she bespeckled a few shades of brown and tan over the base. Then she mixed together a new shade of yellow that was closer to the Inquisitor’s eyes before spraying on diagonal lines.

She took a step back to look over her work. With a smile, she gave a satisfied nod. Much better.

After securing the fabric to the frame, she collapsed it to carry it down into the bowels of the ship. She stopped in front of the cargo bay door, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She knew Kanan wouldn’t let the Inquisitor just go for her throat the moment she opened the door, but that didn’t keep her from bracing herself. So with one hand on her blaster, she kicked the door. “Kanan, I’ve got a cot.”

There was an electronic click, and the door slid open. Kanan and Nara were sitting on their normal estrade with the Inquisitor was kneeling on the other side of the bay from them, his daiima sitting stiffly by his side. With her entrance, the Inquisitor remained unmoving even as his daiima glanced nervously between her and his jemma. 

Sabine only took a step in before looking over at Kanan. “So where am I putting this?”

Kanan got up from the estrade, grabbing a blanket and pillow before walking over to her. “I’ll help you set it up.” He raised an eyebrow at the painted durasteel struts before giving a knowing chuckle. 

Sabine smiled in kind. Kanan might not comment on her work, but she could tell he appreciated it. 

The Inquisitor quickly stood, swaying on his feet for just a moment before straightening so stiffly it looked painful. He regarded them with confused suspicion as he watched them put the cot down and arrange it. “W-What is this…?”

Sabine gave a soft scoff. “What? You’ve never seen a cot before?” She tapped her foot against the durasteel frame. “I know it’s not the most _professional_ build, but it should be good enough for the likes of you.”

The Inquisitor didn’t react to her words or tone. Instead, he continued to stare at the cot in utter confusion. Sabine also noticed he was still swaying unsteadily as he stood in place. 

Kanan frowned, tapping his thigh. “You… do know what this is, right?” he asked. 

The Inquisitor glared at him, but it was softened by his underlying uncertainty. 

“It’s just a portable bunk,” Sabine said dryly. “Probably not the most comfortable thing in the world, but it’ll do until we figure out what to do with you.”

The Inquisitor’s shoulders hunched up slightly at that as he directed his glare back to Sabine. “This all would be easier if you just finished me off,” he growled through gritted teeth. 

Sabine let out a bark of laughter, her hand drifting down to her blaster. “Oh, don’t tempt me...”

“Sabine,” Kanan warned. He only gave her the barest glance from the corner of his eye, but it was enough to have her backing down. She had to remind herself that despite the Inquisitor’s stature, he was still very dangerous. Kanan took a few steps back, and Sabine followed suit as he waved at the cot. “Go ahead.”

The Inquisitor was staring at both of them warily, and the fine tremor in his limbs was becoming more pronounced. For a moment, it seemed as though he would stubbornly stay standing there unsteadily, but he finally took a step towards the cot… 

… Only to sway violently as his eyes went unfocused. It was only the quick transformation of his daiima into a large scaled beast that kept him from falling completely. His arm automatically wrapped around his ribs as he braced himself against his daiima with his other hand. 

Kanan’s frown deepened. “Kid, are you hurt?”

The Inquisitor’s yellow eyes flashed as they zeroed in on Kanan, the fear quickly covered up with yet another glare. As soon as he was steadied, he pushed his daiima back with a harsh scowl as he stood ramrod straight again. 

The action made Sabine’s insides squirm uneasily. According to Kanan, a Jedi’s daiima was an extension of themselves. They were two parts of a single whole. In the last year and half she’s been living on the _Ghost_ , Sabine had watched their partnership - their oneness, even when separated - in action. So to see the Inquisitor treat his daiima like just some common beast was… uncomfortable.

Kanan put a hand on Sabine’s shoulder. “Go get the medkit.”

She gaped at him. “So now we’re giving him _medical_ treatment too?!”

“ _Sabine_ , just do as I say.” 

Kanan’s expression brokered no argument, so with a frustrated scowl, Sabine turned heel and marched out of the cargo bay. She couldn’t believe this. This had to be the most _lenient_ treatment of a prisoner she had ever seen. 

Okay, so technically basic medical treatment was not _that_ uncalled for, but on top of making him a bed and keeping him unrestrained, it was getting to be a bit much. Kanan wasn’t stupid, so why wasn’t he taking common sense precautions?

She came back to the cargo with the medkit to see the Inquisitor sitting on the cot, his daiima back in her lothcat form and sitting next to his feet. His glare was fixed on Kanan, who was standing a couple meters back now. It still had that odd undercurrent of confusion as he glanced over at Sabine, eyeing the kit in her hands. 

With a tired sigh, Sabine took out the medisensor and made sure it was set to Human before scanning it over the Inquisitor’s body. She ignored the way the Inquisitor’s eyes widened and his body leaned back ever so slightly away from her. The sensor immediately highlighted a couple regions of the simplified human diagram in red: the muscles at the base of the Inquisitor’s neck had some tearing, and there were three fractures in a line across his ribs. 

“You’ve got whiplash and a few broken ribs,” Sabine said flatly. As she spoke, the Inquisitor’s lips pressed together so tightly they became a nearly invisible line. “Not surprising considering the crash, but it explains why you might be a bit dizzy. Not really much we can do except - ”

The medisensor suddenly beeped with more information. Flashing ‘ _Attention’_ on its screen, it began to list anomalies detected that were not life-threatening but of note to anyone who might be treating the patient. With every technical note that was added to the list, the relevant section on the diagram was highlighted in yellow.

Sabine’s stomach dropped as the entire diagram began to glow. While the list was mostly jargon, a few phrases were repeated over and over again: _‘Hypertrophic Scar Tissue’, ‘Keloid Scar Tissue’, ‘Atrophic Scar Tissue’, ‘Durasteel Support Plate’, ‘Durasteel Support Rod’_...

“Ner kal…” Sabine murmured in horror. “This can’t be right…”

“What is it?” Kanan walked over and looked over her shoulder. He spent a moment reading through the ongoing list of old injuries the Inquisitor had suffered. Instead of expressing shock, he just closed his eyes with a soft sigh. He wasn’t surprised by what he was seeing.

Feeling a bit numb, Sabine looked back at the Inquisitor. He had his eyes fixed on the ground now, his shoulders hunched up. Her eyes were drawn to the tight collar on his neck and the faint scars that were visible underneath it. She looked back at the medisensor. Only persistent and ongoing torture could have caused this extent of bodily damage. 

The image of the deadly Imperial Inquisitor fell away. All she could see now is the _kid_ who was even younger than her. A kid who had been systematically brainwashed and turned into a slave of the Empire. 

Kanan put a hand on her shoulder and gently took the medisensor away. “I’ll take care of this,” he said softly. 

The silent command was clear. With a stiff nod, Sabine turned around and walked out of the cargo bay. When the door closed behind her, she took a moment to collect herself. The extent of the damage on that kid’s body was _nauseating_. And Kanan had _expected_ it. Which… was likely the reason for his lenient treatment of their prisoner.

She blinked. Their prisoner… She didn’t even know his name.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she walked back to her cabin. She needed to paint. Or make more explosives. Or _anything_ to keep her distracted right now.

* * *

Thirteen was grateful when the Mandalorian left. She wasn’t Force sensitive, but her emotions were still strong and grated against his shields. At least Kanan and Nara kept their feelings in check. 

Turning the sensor off, Kanan picked up the medkit and began digging through it. “There’s not much we can do about the whiplash or the broken ribs,” he said. “But I can give you something to help with the pain.”

The muscles in Thirteen’s shoulders clenched painfully. He didn’t even want to _know_ what that meant. “I’m not in pain,” he managed to murmur. 

The Jedi gave a low growl, and for a moment Thirteen stopped breathing. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe the Jedi _weren’t_ weak. Maybe their methods of meting out punishment were simply _different_. 

“I don’t know how your _master_ dealt with injuries, but on this ship, we don’t let each other wallow in pain for no reason.” Kanan pulled out a small white package from the medkit. “These are pills. They won’t do much more than dull the pain, but that’s better than nothing.”

Thirteen let out a soft exhale as he frowned, glancing up at the Jedi. _Dull_ the pain?

Kanan went to the welded cabinet and pulled out a packet of water. “You don’t have to take them…” Kanan slowly leaned down and set the package and the water on the floor a meter in front of Thirteen’s feet before he stepped back again. “But they’re here if you choose.”

Thirteen’s attention zeroed in on the water. He didn’t know about the pills, but the sound of the packet sloshing slightly brought attention to the dryness of his throat and the gut-deep need for water. His eyes flickered between the packet and the Jedi. In the Force, he couldn’t sense any wariness or anticipation, the usual tells that it was some sort of trap. Chances were the water hadn’t been tampered with. 

His Asset shifted into a lizard monkey and walked up to the offered items. She examined them carefully for a moment before grabbing both and scurrying back to Thirteen’s side.

Without a second thought, Thirteen swiped the water, ripping it open and chugging it down with a small moan. The water was gone before he knew it, and he already felt more alive than he had just moments before. 

A small chuckle had Thirteen flinching slightly. The Jedi’s amusement was gently brushing up against his mind, but there wasn’t any triumph or satisfaction underlying it like Thirteen was used to. 

“Here…” The Jedi went digging through the cabinet again, this time pulling out several packages and a cup. “You’re probably starving at this point.” Kanan walked up and placed the items in the same place he had before. A quick glance confirmed to Thirteen that the packages were meal packs. “That’s the refresher,” he went on, pointing to the enclosed area with the manual door. “You can get as much water as you’d like from there.”

A place to sleep… something to dull the pain… water… food… 

Thirteen abruptly stood, knocking the cot back. The clatter had everyone flinching, and Thirteen quickly retreated so his back was up against the wall as he bared his teeth at the Jedi and his Asset. “What the _kriff_ are you doing?!” he snarled. 

Kanan’s eyes were wide, and Nara had stood to stand by his side, her fur raised slightly. But the Jedi’s shock quickly melted away as he gazed at Thirteen with an infuriating _understanding._ “This isn’t a trick,” he said softly, despite hitting his thigh hard with his fist. “I’m… We’re not doing this to wear your defenses down or lull you into a false sense of security.”

“Banthakark!” Thirteen barked. “I know your methods, _Jedi!_ You wrap yourselves up in the ideals of _peace_ and _justice_ while at the same time enabling the servitude and murder of _billions_ of sentients! I’ve been trained for this! I won’t fall for your subversions!”

There was a long stretch where the only sound in the cargo bay was Thirteen’s labored breathing. His Asset - still in lizard monkey form - had cowered from the commotion and was trembling just a couple meters from Thirteen… standing _too_ _close_ to the Jedi…! 

“We’re not Jedi.”

Thirteen’s attention snapped back to Kanan. The man was gazing at him intently with his turquoise and milky eyes, and Thirteen couldn’t help but look away. “You expect me to believe that?” he growled. 

“We were raised in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant,” Kanan admitted. There was a low rumble in Nara’s chest as she sat down beside him, her head lowered slightly. “But after the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Empire…” 

His hesitation was paired with a deafening _roar_ in the Force. Icy rage and soul-tearing _pain_ screamed so loudly in the Force that it took Thirteen’s breath away. Had he not already been pressed to the wall, he might have stumbled back from the intensity of it. But not even a moment later, it was gone. All that was left in its wake was numbing acceptance. 

“No Jedi would look at us now and accept us as one of their own,” Kanan said softly. “And even if they did… we would not accept it.”

“His _point_ ,” Nara interjected, “... is that we’re not part of any order or organization anymore. Everything we do, we do because you and your daiima deserve to be treated with basic dignity and respect. Nothing more.”

Thirteen’s vision began to go in and out of focus. He knew it was the mixture of exhaustion and hunger, but he had to push through it. Blinking several times to force his eyes to focus properly, he also ignored the incessant tremor in his body as he pushed back from the wall and stood as straight as possible. “I-I am Eye See Thirteen. I am a… a w-weapon. I l-live… to s-serve…”

The world suddenly went grey and tilted violently. The next thing he knew, something caught his fall just before he completely lost consciousness.

* * *

For a moment, Kanan just knelt there with the boy in his arms. He had to take a moment to collect himself after that emotionally harrowing exchange. 

There was no question about it now. There was absolutely no way Kanan could just leave these two to their own devices. Even if the most strategically sound move would be to finish them off - or at least abandon them on some remote moon - Thirteen was just a child. He and his daiima weren’t acting out of malice or hate. They were doing what they had been programmed to do out of absolute terror. 

And Kanan knew all of this… because he could sense it through their fledgling Force bond. 

[ _Why? Why us? Why_ **_me_** _?_ ]

Nara looked at him. [ _Are you actually expecting an answer?_ ]

Kanan sighed. [ _I suppose not…_ ] He stood with a grunt, using his foot to put the cot back upright before placing the boy on to it. As he arranged the pillow under his head, Nara gently picked up Thirteen’s Asset and carried her over. When she placed her down on the cot with Thirteen, the daiima immediately curled up against his chest.

It was a painful sight to see, particularly after witnessing the Inquisitor’s abuse earlier. Kanan and Nara knew _why_ he acted that way. In the eyes of the Sith and other Dark Side users, their daiima weren’t equal to their jemma. They were servants, powerful tools to be wielded and forcibly molded into perfect weapons. No doubt any sign of affection or physical comfort displayed in the Inquisitorious was met with harsh punishment. 

This state of unconsciousness was likely the only time they got to be together without fear. It was heartbreaking.

“I need to talk to Hera,” Kanan said softly. 

“Go,” Nara said. “I’ll look after them.”

Kanan nodded, grabbing the blanket off the ground and laying it over Thirteen and his daiima. He glanced at Nara. “Just…”

“I know,” she said. “ _Go_.”

Nodding again, Kanan got up with a sigh and made his way up to the cockpit. Honestly, he mostly just needed to get away for a little bit. This steady life he and Nara had carved out for themselves had been completely shattered by the last twelve hours.

What were the _chances?_ That the Inquisitorious would just so happen to send a trainee _child_ and their daiima on this small Outer Rim world… and that Kanan and Nara would form a _bond_ with them. 

Maybe it wasn’t a Force bond. After all, they were the first Force sensitives he and Nara had come across since Vihi and her daiima. Maybe they were just being hypersensitive to their presence…

Feeling a little better by that explanation, he got up to the cockpit and sat in the co-pilot’s seat. “How are the repairs?”

“Almost finished. Chopper is running a couple more diagnostics. If they come clear, we’ll be ready to go.” Hera swiveled in her seat towards Kanan. “How’s our guest?”

“Passed out. I doubt they’ve slept since the parade last night.” Kanan sighed and leaned back in his seat. He can’t believe that was less than a day ago. When the Inquisitor had first pursued him, he had had no idea who or what Kanan was. From his perspective, he was just going after an unremarkable dissident. 

But once the Inquisitor had identified him as a Jedi, the stakes had been raised for both of them. Kanan might not be a Jedi, but he _was_ a Force sensitive. To the Empire, that was good enough. Trainee or not, Thirteen’s programming would have compelled him to hunt down and kill Kanan at all costs. 

“... And you?” Hera said softly. “How are you and Nara holding up?”

Kanan gave a small huff, swallowing down a growl and relishing the writhing ball of anxiety in his chest. “I think Nara has practically imprinted herself on his daiima. Who doesn’t seem to speak. And who doesn’t have a name…” 

Hera’s eyes slanting in sympathy. “Is that _normal_ for Inquisitors?”

Kanan sighed, his heart heavy. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Thirteen calls daiima ‘Assets’.”

“His name is _Thirteen_?”

“Inquisitors have numerical designations,” Kanan said flatly, his chest tightening painfully. He knew it had been a vain hope, but he had genuinely thought that he could avoid the darkness of his past forever. After ten years… it didn’t seem like _too_ much of a stretch. Of course, now that had all crashed down around them. 

He bent over and rubbed his face as he let out a shuddered breath. He had to stop thinking about this or he was going to spiral. Except he couldn’t. Because he literally had an Inquisitor _in this cargo bay_ being guarded by his own daiima. Familiar dark tension was creeping up his back. 

“Kanan…”

“He’s a _child_.” His chest began to burn with every breath. “They _tortured_ him, brainwashed him to the point where he abuses his _own daiima_ …!”

There was warm leather against his trembling hands. He looked up to see Hera’s face inches from his own. It was only when he heard her soft breathing that he could hear how fast his own was. Closing his eyes, he blew out as much air as he could before finally inhaling again. 

She reached up and pressed a hand to his cheek. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” Kanan mumbled. “I haven’t had to think about Inquisitors for so long. The last time I encountered one…” He gave a dry chuckle, tracing a finger over the scar on his face. What a twisted week it had been.

Hera bit her lip. “I might not know everything…” she whispered, “... but we have to move forward. And so we need to figure out _some_ way to help that boy.” 

There was a beep over the internal comm before Chopper’s voice confirmed that the diagnostics were finished.

With a soft sigh, Hera leaned up and gave him a quick kiss before returning to the pilot’s seat. “First thing we need to do is get out of the system before his so-called master gets here. Then we need to figure out how to deactivate the locator beacon.” 

“Then what?” Kanan asked. For all he knew, Thirteen had been with the Inquisitorious his entire life. He couldn’t possibly undo all of that damage. The kid and his daiima were too far gone. 

He could practically feel Nara growling in his head. [ _No… they’re not._ ]

Before Kanan could retort, Hera began to power up the _Ghost_. “Then… I’m going to contact Fulcrum,” Hera said solemnly. “One way or another, we’ll figure this out.”

Fulcrum. Hera’s anonymous informant. A person none of them personally knew, but who pointed them towards lucrative jobs that not only disrupted Imperial operations but often helped those who needed it most. A person who likely had more than enough resources to deal with an Inquisitor trainee. At least more than they did. 

The thought of Thirteen and his daiima being taken off their hands had the tension slowly drain from Kanan. His shoulders sagged and he sighed. “Yeah… that sounds like a plan.”


	6. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanan and Nara make some inroads with the Inquisitor and his daiima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am switching to a weekly posting schedule. I'm just hoping I can keep pace with my writing^^

The Inquisitor and his daiima were unconscious for the rest of the day. It had been a very long night for everyone, so once the _Ghost_ was soaring in hyperspace, they all did their best to get some rest. Chopper even stayed in the cargo bay to monitor their guests so that Kanan and Nara could rest as well.

So Hera was disappointed to find that they weren’t resting in the way she had hoped. When she checked in on them late in the day cycle, Kanan was curled up against Nara’s side but he immediately opened his eyes when she walked in. “Hey,” he said softly. 

Hera gave a small smile, glancing at the Inquisitor. He was curled up on his side with his daiima curled up against his chest, the lizard monkey’s head barely sticking out from the blanket. The Inquisitor looked… so young. 

She walked over to the far corner, sitting down next to Nara and sliding her hand into the thick fur of her neck, eliciting a small rumble. “Hard to imagine them as killers…” she said softly. 

Kanan nodded. He was leaning heavily against Nara, with his arms crossed tightly around him as he stared at the boy sleeping on the cot. 

“You should eat some dinner,” Hera said. “You _both_ should.” 

Kanan nodded again. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Thirteen didn’t eat anything before he passed out.”

Chopper grumbled angrily, pointing at the Inquisitor with a statement about good riddance.

Hera glared at her droid with a warning. “Chop, why don’t you go up the cockpit and check on our progress?”

Chopper grumbled again, but this time much more quietly as he rolled out the cargo bay, making sure to lock the door behind him. 

Kanan just shook his head. “Not that I expected any different from him…”

Hera sighed. “Did you at least manage to get some sleep?”

“A bit… As much as I _sort of_ trust Chopper, I still can’t help but keep some sort of sense on the kid at all times. Just in case.”

Hera looked up at Nara, running her fingers through her fur. “He’s telling the truth?”

Nara’s chest let out a short series of rumbles, a sound Hera knew was her version of chuckling. “More or less. We took turns sleeping.”

Hera nodded slowly as she continued to stroke Nara’s fur. While Kanan and Nara were technically _capable_ of sleeping at separate times from each other, Hera knew that it was never as restful as when they slept simultaneously. She would have preferred if they had trusted Chopper enough to get some sleep together but understood that that might be asking a bit too much at this stage. 

“How’s Sabine doing?” Kanan asked quietly.

“She managed to get some sleep. Now she’s working on her art.” Just that morning when they brought the Inquisitor on board, she had been understandably vexed. But after she had come back from delivering the cot… she had been notably subdued and thoughtful. She had brushed Hera off when she asked about it, but from what Kanan had said, Hera had a decent idea what caused her shift in mood.

A small moan drew their attention. The Inquisitor was frowning in his sleep, holding his daiima in a death grip. 

Kanan and Nara immediately got up. Kanan stopped just a few paces from the cot, falling to a knee and reaching a hand out towards the boy. Nara lowered herself back down to the ground beside him, her nose inches from the Inquisitor’s head. 

Hera stood and stayed back as she watched the scene unfold. For a long stretch of silence, nothing happened. Then the Inquisitor’s body slowly relaxed, his expression smoothing out. His eyes fluttered open, the yellow irises searching blindly for a moment before focusing on Nara. Another moment passed as Thirteen breathed evenly, gazing at the giant wolf with a blank expression.

Then his eyes widened. He didn’t jump out of the cot or try to get away, but his entire body visibly stiffened, and Hera could have sworn he had stopped breathing. His daiima was also staring wide eyed at Nara, still nestled in her jemma’s arms. 

“Do you remember where you are?” Kanan asked, his voice quiet and even. 

Thirteen’s gaze hardened as he nodded and slowly sat up. He looked at the blanket covering him with a mixture of confusion and disgust as he tossed it aside. His daiima immediately jumped out of his arms, transforming into a loth cat and sitting on the ground next to his feet. 

Even after living with Kanan and Nara for years, it was still strange to see an animal by a person’s side. Ever since the Empire forbade pet ownership, Imperially licensed farmers and crime overlords were generally only ones who kept animals, the latter as an intimidation technique.

“I don’t think I properly introduced myself,” Hera said, taking a small step forward. The Inquisitor’s eyes flashed as they focused on her. They were a shade of yellow unnatural for humans, making the gaze unnerving, but Hera just gave a small smile. “I’m Hera Syndulla, the captain of this vessel. You’ve already met Kanan and Nara… The colorful Mandalorian is Sabine Wren, and our droid is called Chopper.”

Neither the Inquisitor or his daiima reacted except to continue to stare at her and Kanan. From what Kanan had told her, they were likely looking for a way to ambush and kill what they perceived to be a Jedi threat. Despite this, Kanan and Nara were both relatively relaxed, apparently confident enough that they could defend themselves against Thirteen and his daiima. 

“It must be a while since you’ve eaten anything,” Hera said. She indicated the bars Kanan had laid out earlier. “Obviously Kanan’s already offered you rations, but later I can arrange for you to have a more proper meal.”

The Inquisitor’s shoulders slowly hunched up as she spoke, regarding her with suspicion. 

“I know you have no reason to trust us,” she said. “We _are_ keeping you prisoner for now, but I promise our intentions are sincere. We won’t hurt you or your daiima, and we’ll treat you with basic decency.”

Thirteen frowned slightly, his gaze flickering downward at his partner before looking back up at the three of them. “Daiima…” he whispered. “Is that a Jedi word?” he spat out, masking his curiosity. 

Hera blinked. _Was_ it a Jedi word? She supposed it must be. While laymen had a variety of names for them (she had heard other Twi’leks refer to them as _lespri nanm lan_ ), every Jedi she had met, that her father had fought alongside, had referred to them as daiima. 

“It is,” Kanan confirmed. “They’re not just _assets_ to us. We’re a part of one another.”

Thirteen’s daiima raised her head slightly at that, her ears twitching. Even if she didn’t speak, it was obvious that she was listening. 

However, the Inquisitor’s gaze hardened. “This is why the Jedi _lost_. What good is a tool if you don’t properly wield it?”

Nara visibly bristled at that. “She is _not_ your _tool_. There’s a reason you live and die together, why your suffering is shared… The Force resides within you so strongly that a part of your soul formed as a separate entity. But just because you’re separate doesn’t make her any less a _part_ of you. I think deep down you know that.”

Thirteen bared his teeth in an animalistic growl but otherwise didn’t respond. Instead he pointedly looked away, his hands clenching at the cot’s frame. But his daiima was still gazing at Nara, her head raised just a little bit higher. 

Hera didn’t know much about the Force or those who could use it, but she could see that the boy’s daiima was going to be the key if they were going to help undo the brainwashing the Empire had inflicted on Thirteen. Not only was she listening, but she seemed to want to hear _more_ , even if her jemma was being obstinate. 

Hera glanced at Kanan. “I’m going to check our route.” It was a lie, but she knew she was a liability here. If anyone was going to reach through to them, it would have to be Kanan and Nara. They were the only ones who could possibly understand what they were going through. There was still the matter of the Inquisitor’s collar, but she could tell the Inquisitor wasn’t going to let anyone anywhere near him right now. Maybe in a day or two, after they had settled into some sort of routine, they could try and approach the matter.

Kanan glanced back at her as he tapped his thigh. “Alright,” he said with a nod.

She placed a hand on his shoulder for just a moment before turning and exiting the cargo bay. While she didn’t need to check their route, she did still need to contact Fulcrum. No doubt Fulcrum would want to know every detail, but Hera had to be judicious lest draw too much unwanted attention onto her crew. It was going to take some time and effort to properly word this kind of report.

* * *

Nara was sitting to the side, her tail twitching in agitation as she watched the boy eat his ration bars. His daiima had laid back down fully on the ground, inches from his right leg. It was agonizing to look at. Of course, she knew _why_ the daiima kept her distance. She and Kanan knew first hand. But just because it was understandable didn’t make it any easier to watch. 

Kanan was exchanging a few words with the Inquisitor, but Nara’s focus was solely on the daiima. On the newly minted bond that connected them. It was likely the little one wasn’t even aware of it yet. Particularly since they had not been trained as traditional Jedi. Of course, Nara had no way of being sure, especially since she wasn’t even allowed to _speak_. She had no agency in their relationship, no voice. 

And yet she was not just a mindless machine. Nara could sense it, almost as keenly as she could sense Kanan. She _wanted_ to break free of the Inquisitorious. The more the little one saw of Kanan and Nara’s relationship, the higher that earnest hope and yearning rose in her.

But as long as she was by her jemma’s side, Nara knew she would never reach out. Not unless Thirteen reached out first, but from everything Thirteen had been saying, it would be a long time before that happened. Nara didn’t want to wait that long to talk to the daiima, not when it was clear that she was ready to reach out _now_. 

“Have you had enough food?” Kanan asked as Thirteen finished his fourth ration bar. 

“Yeah,” Thirteen said, his voice clipped as he placed the wrapper next to the others. He clenched his fists and placed them on his thighs, glaring up at Kanan. “So. What now?”

“Well… you guys are confined in the cargo bay, but that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to do _anything_.” Kanan sighed, looking around. Then he waved a hand towards the refresher. “Do you want to get washed up? You’ve got a healthy layer of grime on you from our scuffle on Lothal. It’s just a sonic shower, but it’ll do the trick.”

Thirteen’s shoulders stiffened. “No thanks,” he growled. “I can live with a bit of dirt.”

Nara’s ears shot up. This was an opportunity. “We’re going to be in hyperspace for a while,” she said. “You’re not going to want to stay in that state. If you’re worried about being cornered, your daiima can stand guard.”

At that, Thirteen glanced down at his daiima, who had raised her head slightly. “I’m good,” he insisted.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Nara insisted. “You’ll have to use the refresher regularly over the next few days regardless. You might as well wash up and get comfortable.”

Kanan glanced at Nara with a small frown. [ _What are you doing?_ ]

[ _Just trust me. I have a plan._ ]

The Inquisitor pressed his lips together. It seemed he couldn’t argue the point. He looked back down at his daiima. When their eyes met, she gently nudged her nose against his leg. But Thirteen quickly pushed her away with his foot. 

Nara couldn’t keep back a low growl at the action. Brainwashing be damned, she did _not_ deserve to be treated like that. Thirteen’s eyes widened slightly at her reaction, but then he recovered and glared back at her. “ _Fine_ ,” he growled through gritted teeth. “I’ll take a kriffing shower.”

He stood and stepped toward the refresher, keeping his glare aimed at Kanan and Nara. Kanan took a step back to give him more space, but Nara didn’t move as she kept her eye on his daiima. The daiima kept her belly close to the ground as she transformed into a Nexu and followed her jemma.

“I won’t be long,” Thirteen murmured to his daiima as he opened the door. He shot Kanan and Nara one last glare each before stepping into the refresher. 

As soon as the door was shut, his nexu-formed daiima turned and sat in front of it, watching Kanan and Nara warily. A few tense moments passed, with only the sounds of soft shuffling from inside the refresher before the sonic buzz from the shower was turned on. 

Nara had to take this chance. It was risky. If Thirteen had been trained to listen and see _through_ his daiima, then it would be over before it started. However, Nara doubted that was the case. If anything, they seemed disconnected. No doubt the Inquisitorious had employed unsavory methods to keep their ‘recruits’ from properly bonding with their daiima. 

She slowly moved so that she was sitting in front of the other daiima. There was less than a meter between them, the spines on the daiima’s back slowly rising defensively. “I promise we’re not going to hurt you,” Nara said softly. “You _or_ your jemma.” At the thread of confusion, she clarified. “Thirteen. He is your jemma. Just as you are his daiima. You are not an ‘asset’ or a tool. You are part of one another.”

There was a soft scraping, and Nara could see her digging her claws against the durasteel floor. It confirmed that she was listening.

“There’s something I want you to do,” Nara said carefully. If she pushed too hard or asked too much of Thirteen’s daiima, she would have completely squandered this opportunity. “I don’t know how much training you’ve had, but I need you to listen to the Force. Focus on it, like your jemma does. Hear what it’s saying to you…”

A moment passed, and nothing happened. None of them moved.

But then Nara could feel it, a small prodding from the young daiima through the Force. She was fumbling along their bond, confused and nervous. But then she was suddenly gone, retreating from the bond as if she had been burned.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Nara whispered. “That connection between us… It’s so similar to your bond with your jemma that it’s terrifying you.” She shuffled just a little bit closer. “You deserve more than to be treated like this.”

A sense of fierce protectiveness rose up in the Inquisitor’s daiima, and with it, Nara saw a flash.

 _They held his hands down on the table by the wrists. His terror was screeching in her head like an overblown speaker as he struggled against the hold, tears streaming down his face as he begged. “No,_ **_please_** _! I won’t touch her again, I promise!_ **_I promise_** _!”_

The daiima’s guilt reverberated so strongly that Nara could practically taste it. “I know you’re trying to do what’s best for your jemma. I have been _exactly_ where you are now, so I _understand_. What happened to him…” 

She glanced at her own jemma, who had suffered so much because of _her_ actions. The scar on his face - his partial blindness - wasn’t her fault. But there were _other_ scars beneath the surface - injuries that would never heal.

Kanan growled, a reflexive tic to anxiety and discomfort. [ _Nara…_ ]

“... it wasn’t your fault,” Nara finished, looking back at the other daiima. “The Inquisitorious did this to you. To _both_ of you. And you both deserve better.” She risked reaching for the Inquisitor’s daiima through the Force to gauge her emotional state. The fear and doubt were still there, but it was laced with cautious hope. The key would be to cultivate that hope so it could eventually overcome her fear.

“You don’t have to go back,” she promised. “Kanan and I can protect you. But if you’re going to truly break free of the Inquisitorious… one of you has to reach out. We can’t do it for you.”

The young daiima didn’t react. The only movement was her spines slowly rising and falling as she considered Nara’s words.

Nara took a step back with a soft huff. She had said her piece. This was all she could do. Now it was up to them - up to Thirteen’s daiima - to make the next move.

“... Ezra.”

It was a whisper that barely peaked up over the sound of the hyperdrive. Nara had almost missed it. She might have if not for the trepid hope that accompanied the whispered word over their bond. “Ezra,” Nara repeated. “Is that your name?”

The nexu shivered and physically recoiled. Then she glanced back at the refresher.

“Oh I see…” Ezra was her jemma’s name. The one the Inquisitorious had stripped from him. That meant that they _hadn’t_ been taken at birth. They had had a life, a _family_ , before the Inquisitorious had stolen them. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. 

It was risky. It was really just impulsive on her part. But Nara leaned forward and gave the daiima a gentle lick along the tip of her muzzle. 

The daiima’s eyes widened, her spines flattening against her back. She lowered her head with a low cautious growl, looking up at Nara with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. 

“We’re going to help,” Nara repeated softly. “I promise.”

* * *

Thirteen had his hands braced against the side of the sonic shower. He was long clean now, but the vibrations were soothing through his body. Back on Nur, taking sonic showers have always been a place of refuge, a brief reprieve where he could try and recover somewhat. The sonic vibrating didn’t aggravate the pain in his chest or neck. Even though his injuries ached, they were aching in a _good_ way. 

He was stripped down to nothing but his collar. The vibrations made it feel as if it was tightening around his neck, but he found it comforting. It was a reassuring pressure, a reminder that he was property of the Empire and _not_ his master.

He sighed, clenching his fists against the wall. They had to get out of here, but there was no point unless he actually killed the Jedi. It was the only way he would be able to justify his actions so far. But the Jedi and his Asset were making fools of them. They hadn’t even properly confined him, and what was worse, it was _working_. Thirteen and his Asset were clearly outmatched. It had been foolish to go after the Jedi alone, but now he was _stuck_ here. He had no other options. If they can’t manage to kill the Jedi, they really would be better off if the Jedi grew a spine and just killed them.

This Jedi and his Asset had to sleep at some point. Even if they had someone else keeping watch, Thirteen was confident he could dispatch any other member of the crew even without his saber, his bone deep exhaustion be damned. He had fought through worse. He just had to swipe the Jedi’s blaster and shoot his Asset until she dissolved to ash. 

Steeling himself, he finally turned the shower off and put his clothing back on. Tonight would be their best chance. Before leaving the refresher, he reached for his Asset’s mind to bring her in on his plan. But before he could, he was met with panic.

Thirteen frowned. He didn’t sense any danger, and she hadn’t reached out to him. He opened the refresher door to see his Asset still standing guard. The Jedi’s Asset was sitting just a couple meters away, and the Jedi himself was standing to the side with his arms crossed. Thirteen gave his Asset a slight glare. She lowered her head slightly, stepping away to let Thirteen exit the refresher, but there was no answer for why she was panicking.

“Feel better?” Kanan asked. 

Thirteen didn’t bother replying. He walked back to his cot and sat down, his Asset turning back into a lothcat and sitting next to his leg. He tried again to signal to her the plan, that they would have to wait until the Jedi and his Asset were asleep. While she was usually obedient, he was sensing trepidation and reluctance. The former was not unusual for her, but reluctance was _dangerous_. 

“You should rest,” Kanan said. “Tomorrow we’ll try and remove your collar.”

Thirteen directly his glare back at the Jedi. “I told you, it’s not going to work,” he said quietly. “It’s designed to be irremovable by anyone except my master.”

“Well, between Chopper and Sabine, we have plenty of experience hacking Imperial hardware. Even if they can’t get it off, they might still be able to turn off the tracking beacon. The _Ghost_ can mask it for now, but it’s only a temporary solution.”

As much as he was loathed to admit it, Thirteen was reassured by the knowledge that this ship was able to jam the homing beacon in his collar. While the collar was important to him, it was a breath of relief to know that his master couldn’t track him. At least for now. It gave him time to finish his self-appointed mission. 

“But you really should try and get some sleep,” Kanan said. “Passing out earlier doesn’t qualify as proper rest.”

Thirteen scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You just want me to let my guard down.”

“I think it’s pretty clear that if we wanted to kill you, we would have done so already.”

Thirteen clenched the edge of his cot. It was hard to argue against that. He reminded himself that Jedi were weak cowards. “So… have you decided what you’re going to do with me?”

“Honestly? We’ve got a couple ideas. But they’re going to depend on you and your daiima.”

He waited for the Jedi to elaborate, but when he didn’t, Thirteen couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “That’s not at all ominous…”

“How old are you?” Kanan asked flatly.

He blinked hard at that. “What does it matter?”

Kanan shrugged. “It’s a simple question.”

Thirteen huffed. “Well, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know your own age?”

_Fifteenth Empire Day…_

Thirteen shook his head, dismissing the insistent fact. “It doesn’t matter.”

For a moment, Kanan and Nara just stared at them. “I think you know more than you’re letting yourself admit,” Kanan said, his voice infuriatingly soft. “But you’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid of the likes of you!” Thirteen snarled. “I’m not some useless _child!_ You’re not the first Jedi I’ve killed!”

“And you would not be the first Inquisitor _I’ve_ killed.”

The statement knocked Thirteen out of his bout of anger. The Force rang with the truth of the statement, but it didn’t line up _at all_ with the way Kanan and Nara had treated them. But looking at Kanan now, at his scar, it made sense. Thirteen recognized the distinctive burn as being formed by a lightsaber. How else would Kanan have received such an injury if not from the saber of an Inquisitor?

But if that was the case, why hadn’t Kanan killed _him?_

Before he could voice the question, Kanan was speaking again. “But it’s not me you’re afraid of. You’re afraid of your master. You’re afraid of the Inquisitorious.”

Thirteen’s jaw began to ache as he ground his teeth together. There wasn’t any point in denying it. Fear is what drove him. It’s what made him a better fighter, a more effective Inquisitorial Candidate. “What’s your point?” he ground out. 

“You haven’t always been with the Inquisitorious,” Kanan said plainly. “You had a life before they took you. You had a family. You had a _name_.”

All of the muscles in Thirteen’s back suddenly stiffened. How could Kanan possibly know that? 

No, he had _no_ life before Nur. No family. No name. “I am Eye See Thirteen,” he said through gritted teeth. “I am a weapon. I live to serve the Empire.”

Kanan sighed. “Just… get some sleep. We’ll discuss what’s next for you tomorrow.”

Relieved to have this conversation come to a close, Thirteen laid on his side on the cot, facing the Jedi and his Asset. His own Asset curled on the ground beneath the cot. They wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not for a while. But he could pretend. They would keep their senses open and wait for the Jedi to fall asleep.

Then… then Thirteen would finish what he started. 


	7. Stretched and Softened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After failing to kill the Jedi, Thirteen's resolve is slowly wilted down

“Where did that kid go?”

“What kid?”

“You know, the one in the black armor and shapeshifting monster!”

“Oh the Inquisitor? He probably left.”

There was a sigh. “Of course… just like the higher ups to abandon the scene of the crime and let us grunts deal with the mess…”

Cal frowned as he leaned against the building, just around the corner from the chatty Imperial patrol. This certainly confirmed that an Inquisitor _had_ been here, but the description was disturbing. A kid whose daiima hadn’t settled?

Rida shifted her head slightly under his poncho. [ _I guess we didn’t save all of them…_ ]

Cal clenched his fists. “Yeah…” he murmured under his breath. Of course it had been foolish to think they had, but after so many years without any news of Inquisitors… They had hoped that the Inquisitorious had been shut down for good. Evidently, they had been rebuilding silently for all these years, managing to find _new_ Force sensitive children to twist into Inquisitors.

“Can’t imagine what the Governor was thinking… How was a kriffing _kid_ supposed to nab the terrorists when we couldn’t?”

The patrol walked out of earshot and Cal stood straight from the building and looked around the corner. The twisted wreck of the destroyed TIE fighter was still in the middle of the main square, surrounded by blackened duracrete. There were a few locals going about their daily lives, although they were avoiding the wreckage and the sparse Imperial patrols. 

His hands in his pockets, Cal made his way over to the wreck. He pretended to look over the local wares of the stores as he went over while also getting a better look. He could see where the explosion had originated, marked by a starburst stain on the ground. 

He smiled at a Rodian merchant as he bought a fruit from him. Munching on it, he sauntered closer to the wreck. With a feigned absentmindedness, he ran a hand over the twisted durasteel.

_He couldn’t help but grin as he easily slipped past the Imperials. As planned, they were all admiring the fireworks. They didn’t even notice as he crouched immediately below the platform holding the new TIE and slapped on the explosive._

Cal frowned. No sign of the Inquisitor. 

[ _Doesn’t seem like an Inquisitor to just abandon their objective_ ] Rida pointed out. 

[ _Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he left the planet to pursue the ones who did this._ ] Although that seemed unlikely given the Inquisitor’s apparent youth. Unless this was a test the Inquisitorious had set for the youngling.

Cal spent a little longer circling the area, making his way further and further from the square as he searched for any other clues that would give him more information about this new Inquisitor. There wasn’t much to go off of. This was the world’s capital city, so there were echos everywhere, but none were particularly strong. 

[ _Well we’re not completely empty-handed_ ] Rida assured. [ _We know the Inquisitor is a child…_ ]

Cal clenched his fists. The Inquisitorious must have scooped this kid and his daiima up some time after the Arkanis break, keeping their activities much more quiet so that the Mantis couldn’t track them down again. 

He was about to pass another alleyway when he felt a soft echo. Frowning, he looked into the dark and short alley. There wasn’t anything there except scattered garbage and a rusty dumpster. While his physical senses didn’t notice anything off, he could hear the Force beckoning him. 

Walking into the alley, he began to gently run his fingers along the walls of the alley. No definitive echo stood out, but there were still whispers that he could just barely make out.

 _“I said_ **_kneel_** _!”_

_“I kneel to no one.”_

It was dark, and Cal couldn’t make out any features of either speaker, but he knew the former voice was the Inquisitor. So there had been a confrontation. The Inquisitor had cornered _someone_ , but from what Cal had overheard from the various Imperial troops, no arrests had been made. 

There was something more to all of this. Cal just had no idea what. 

[ _We should get back to the Mantis_ ] Rida said. [ _I don’t think there’s anything more for us to learn here._ ]

Cal nodded. [ _Yeah, you’re probably right._ ]

* * *

It was deep into the night cycle when Thirteen made his move. As he feigned sleep, he had kept his awareness of the Jedi sharp. There were no more words spoken aloud, but Thirteen could tell that Kanan was communicating silently with his Asset. There were a variety of emotions that stirred in the Jedi. Most of them Thirteen couldn’t identify. There was… guilt? Melancholy? Some sort of aching… hope?

That thread that seemed to connect them, the buzz in the back of his head, it somehow made it easy for him to sense what the Jedi was feeling. Beyond the utility of the thread, Thirteen pointedly ignored any other implications. He convinced himself that it meant it was his destiny to finish the Jedi off. The Force has connected them to help Thirteen accomplish his task.

Eventually, the Jedi’s emotions calmed, and his consciousness quieted. Once Thirteen sensed that the Jedi was asleep, he waited just a bit longer to be sure. Then he slowly opened his eyes.

The lights had been dimmed, with only a pale orange glow illuminating the cargo bay. The lupine Asset was on the elevated platform, with Kanan curled up against her side. Nara had her body curled up around the Jedi, her large head obscuring most of Kanan’s body from Thirteen’s view. They didn’t even call in another crew member to stand guard. Thirteen grinned. Their overconfidence would be their downfall. 

He moved as slowly as possible as he sat up in the cot. It let out a few loud creaks, making Thirteen freeze each time. However, the Jedi and his Asset remained still. Letting out a shaking breath, Thirteen stood up fully. He turned around and looked down at his own Asset peeking out from underneath the cot. She was trembling slightly, her eyes flickering between Thirteen and their objective. [ _We shouldn’t..._ ]

Thirteen’s lip curled. Now was _not_ the time for hesitation. He cocked his head towards the platform. All it would take was a single action: yank the blaster from the Jedi’s holster and shoot. Either Kanan would be dead… or the Jedi would finally grow a spine and finish Thirteen off. One way or another, this was going to end. Any alternative was unthinkable.

But still, his Asset didn’t seem swayed. She just stayed under the cot, her uncertainty rising with every second.

Thirteen grit his teeth and turned back towards the Jedi. Fine. He could do this without her.

He slowly stepped toward the enemy, remaining focused on the Jedi’s consciousness. He was confident that he would be able to tell when he started to wake. If that happened Thirteen could explain away his walking around as going to the refresher. Then he would just have to wait for another opportunity. 

It wasn’t until he was only a couple meters from Jedi that he felt an uncomfortably familiar tug on his chest. He turned to glare at his Asset incredulously. She had backed away from him, her belly low to the ground and her ears flat back against her head. Their tether had been stretched to its limit. Panic gripped at Thirteen’s chest. What was she _doing?_ She knew what would happen to them if they didn’t do this. This was their entire purpose, what they had been designed for: to kill Jedi. 

“She doesn’t want to.”

A yelp escaped Thirteen’s throat as he spun around. His balance swayed violently, and he fell back onto the ground. He was panting fast, his heart pounding with adrenaline as his mind scrambled to figure out what had just happened. A pair of yellowish amber eyes stood out in the darkness, gazing down intently at him. 

Thirteen gaped at her, looking between her and Kanan in utter disbelief. How…? _How?_ He could still sense the Jedi, and he was still asleep. How could the Asset possibly be awake?

Nara slowly raised her head to look more directly at Thirteen. “Can you not hear her?”

Thirteen scrambled back to his feet. “What are you _talking_ about?” he growled.

The wolf glanced at his Asset, who was still cowering away from all of them. “Your daiima is screaming her fear _for you_ in the Force, and you are completely ignoring her.”

The pull on his chest was edging on painful, and _why was she doing this to him?_ Thirteen glared back at Nara. “I’m not about to be lectured by some Jedi’s _Asset!_ She is an extension of my will, she obeys _me!_ ”

For a moment, she just gazed at him. Her gaze was probing, as if she was looking into Thirteen’s mind. But she _couldn’t_ be. Thirteen would have felt it if she was. Could Assets even _do_ that? No Asset Thirteen had ever met had ever used the Force in such a manner. 

Then Nara shifted her gaze to his Asset. “It’s alright, little one…”

“Don’t _talk_ to her!” Thirteen snarled. 

Kanan’s consciousness blossomed in the Force as the Jedi blinked rapidly and sat up. He immediately jumped up away from his Asset, facing Thirteen with a sharp focus. His hand had instinctively gone to his blaster. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing of concern,” Nara said, her eyes still focused on Thirteen’s daiima. It was as if she was trying to silently communicate with her. “They just tried to kill us in our sleep.”

Kanan didn't seem surprised at all. “Right…” he said quietly, tapping the side of his thigh. 

More than anything, Thirteen wanted to ask how Kanan and Nara could stay conscious separately. Was this a Jedi power? Why hadn’t the Inquisitorious adopted this? It seemed incredibly useful. 

“You haven’t gotten _any_ sleep, have you?” Kanan asked.

There was no use in responding. Kanan obviously already knew the answer, and lying would be a pointless endeavor. So Thirteen just leveled a glare at the Jedi.

Kanan let out a tired sigh, running his fingers through his loose hair. “Look, obviously you’re not going to catch us off guard. So why don’t you take this time and actually get some rest?”

Thirteen didn’t move from where he was standing. He did not want to give the Jedi or his Asset the satisfaction of obeying them. But then the tugging on his chest eased, and he realized that his own Asset was walking back towards him. Turning his head slightly, he saw that she had curled back up underneath the cot. 

Thirteen clenched his fists. What was _wrong_ with her? Not only was she defying him, she was _obeying_ this _Jedi?_ If his master were here right now, she’d have thrashed them both for her cowardice. 

Unfortunately, the Jedi was right. _Again._ There was no point in staying up, especially if his kriffing Asset was going to be this insolent. Maybe if they got enough sleep, he’d figure out a better plan tomorrow. So with great reluctance, Thirteen backed up until his legs hit the cot. He ignored the trembling in his limbs as he slowly laid down on his side, still glaring at the others. 

Without his bidding, his vision went unfocused and his eyelids grew heavy. He tried to cling to consciousness, but there was a soft pressure on his mind coming from all sides until his awareness had been snuffed out.

* * *

The next couple of days were among the longest of Kanan’s life. With how stressful the situation was, one would have thought that would have made time go faster. Instead, the combination of stress and the lack of anything productive to do just made his awareness of time excruciatingly acute. 

Thirteen (no, Ezra) had remained ornery and snippy, all glares and clipped angry responses. Kanan could almost see why his daiima’s preferred forms were feline. Despite her own submissiveness, her jemma was reminiscent of a feral tooka. He seemed determined to constantly remind Kanan that he was their enemy. 

However, Kanan and Nara were careful not to let it get a rise out of them. They knew that it would only feed his anger and make everything about this situation even harder. It seemed to be effective. By the end of the second day, his open contempt had already noticeably softened.

His daiima remained close to him, laying on the ground except for when… _Ezra_ … used the refresher when she stood guard. She didn’t speak again, but had been giving Nara and Kanan the occasional glance. It was obvious that she wanted to reach out. However, her fear - not for herself, but for her jemma - was just too overpowering. 

Of course, nothing about the situation was helping. They were still prisoners, regardless of how well they were being treated. Kanan and Nara were still their guards. They were at a stalemate. Kanan and Nara couldn’t just let them wander free. At _best_ , Ezra would run back to the Empire and the Inquisitorious, and Kanan wasn’t about to let that happen.

Although, maybe not… Ezra’s fear of his master was stronger than Kanan even thought possible. As much as he clung to that collar of his, his relief upon hearing that he couldn’t be tracked had been palpable. This was good. It meant some part of him was trying to break free, trying to reach for some sort of better life. Maybe Kanan could build on that. 

He and Nara had to be careful to avoid using Ezra’s name when addressing him. Given his complicated relationship with his daiima, they didn’t want to risk a violent fallout if he learned that she had revealed such a personal piece of his past. 

“You know, Thirteen…” Kanan said, stirring a spoon through the soup Hera had given them. “The offer is still on the table.” Ezra looked back at him with a slightly confused glare, and Kanan clarified. “To get that collar off of you.”

Ezra didn’t verbally reply, but he traced a finger over the edge of the black durasteel before staring back down at his own bowl of rycrit stew. 

“If you’re worried about what they’d do if they found you without it…” Kanan said carefully, “... You can say we forced it off of you.”

Ezra quickly looked away, his fingers tightening on his collar. He looked contemplative, which was promising. Kanan gently probed the Force to get a better idea of his emotional state. It wasn’t something he was used to. He’s avoided using the Force for such a long time, and Ezra’s emotions were just so intense… it was easy to get overwhelmed. 

Right now, the ever-present underlying fear had grown to the forefront of Ezra’s mind. Doubt was twisting with it, almost fighting against the fear. While the emotions were easy enough to sense, it was hard for Kanan to parse out what any of it precisely meant. Was his fear of retribution from his master if the collar is removed? Or is it fear just of the collar itself being removed? 

“What did you mean when you said you had ‘earned’ your collar?” Kanan asked softly.

Ezra flinched and looked up at him. At first he tried to glare at Kanan like usual, but it had no heat and it almost immediately dissolved into a neutral expression. He looked back toward his soup, taking a small sip. Even his emotions quieted down to an almost placid acceptance. “I had to prove myself as an Inquisitorial Candidate.” He traced a finger over the collar again. “With this… it means I can do missions without my master.”

Kanan nodded slowly. That was more or less what he expected. As much as Ezra professed loyalty to the Empire, he would go to any lengths to stay away from his master. He could relate. “What… if I said you don’t have to go back back to your master?”

Ah, there was that glare again. It was accompanied by a wave of indignant disbelief and a brief flash of panic. “I’m Eye See Thirteen. I am a weapon. I…”

“...live to serve the Empire, I know,” Kanan finished.

[ _You’re pushing too hard_ ] Nara said.

[ _You’re free to jump in and help_ ] Kanan replied exasperatedly.

[ _You know he won’t listen to me…_ ]

Kanan sighed. She was right, which only made this entire situation more frustrating. He will forever be grateful that he got to grow up in the Temple with the wisdom of the Jedi. The idea that Nara was just a tool or a dumb animal was… unthinkable. 

Returning his focus to the Inquisitor, Kanan was finding himself at a loss for what to say to him next. They needed to deactivate the beacon to get use of the _Ghost’s_ signal modulator back. Even if they _wanted_ to forcibly restrain Ezra and his daiima, he seriously doubted they'd be able to. Even with the cuffs, his daiima would be almost impossible to restrain, and any move that hurt her jemma would no doubt destroy what little trust she had with them. Not to mention potentially put Sabine and Hera in danger.

No, they had to get Ezra on board with this as well. And it wasn’t just for the practical reasons. Ezra obviously had no loyalty to his master. His loyalty to the Empire was nothing more than fear-driven conditioning. And most importantly, he was a _child._

All of these facts resonated deeply with a part of Kanan that he had desperately been trying to ignore. It also hadn’t helped that Nara had been pestering him every chance she could.

No matter the cost, they could not let Ezra and his daiima fall back into the hands of the Empire. They deserved a better life. 

But it was going to take baby steps. The first of which was getting that beacon deactivated. “You know that collar doesn’t change your allegiance. Taking it off doesn’t mean you’re betraying the Empire.”

“ _Stop it!_ ” Ezra scowled. “I know what you’re trying to do. I know you’re trying to trick me. I don’t _need_ this collar off.”

“And why do you _need_ to keep it on?” Kanan asked genuinely. “The Empire isn’t here. Your master isn’t here. You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone on this ship.”

Ezra pulled his knees up to the cot as he wrapped his hands around his neck. “This is for _me_ ,” he said, his voice cracking. “It’s proof to _me_ that I’m free.”

Kanan gave a small frown. “You really think that collar makes you free?”

“Yes!” Ezra said almost desperately. “Because right now I’m out _here_ and not _in there!_ ”

Kanan gazed at Ezra, at the way he was curled up tightly. He was trembling slightly as he stared back at Kanan with a mixture of fear and anger, echoing what Kanan could sense in the Force. “Well… right now you’re still out _here_. And taking off that collar isn’t going to just teleport you back _there_.”

The knuckles on Ezra’s hands went white as he pressed them more tightly against his collar. “I know that,” he growled petulantly. 

Kanan sighed. “We don’t even have to remove it,” he admitted. “We just need to deactivate the beacon. We can leave the collar on you… if that’s really what you want.”

He hadn’t expected that to work, but Ezra’s grip on his neck eased a bit. His fear deflated as his shoulders slowly relaxed. He had a slight frown as his eyes searched the space in front of him. That was encouraging. Kanan didn’t know why he hadn’t thought about it before. Ezra’s attachment to his collar might be symbolic, but it was born from a very real need to protect himself. That collar had gotten him away from his master and her likely brutal torture.

If Ezra wasn’t emotionally prepared to take that collar off, that was fine for now.

The young inquisitor bit his lip as he looked at Kanan. “That’s all you’re going to do?” he asked, his voice small and unsure. 

“That’s it. I promise.”

The kid’s expression hardened again, his fingers squeezing his collar. “Fine,” he ground out quietly. “You can deactivate the beacon.”

Something in Kanan’s chest unwound itself as he gave a small smile. “Alright. I’ll let Sabine and Chopper know.”

Ezra visibly swallowed, looking away from Kanan, but his shoulders were noticeably more relaxed than they had been before. No doubt a part of him was relieved to know that his master wouldn’t be able to track him. Of course, he was probably going to try to use that little bit of freedom to continue attempts to kill Kanan and Nara, but progress was progress.

[ _We still don’t have a path forward_ ] Nara pointed out. [ _We can’t keep them cooped up in here with us all the time. That’s not going to help them._ ]

[ _I know, but for right now I’m going to take this victory and roll with it._ ] Kanan gave a small sigh. [ _Maybe once the beacon is deactivated, we could go somewhere more isolated, away from the rest of the crew. Like Denova._ ]

Nara gave an audible snort at that. [ _I suppose Denova worked well enough for us… Although I don’t know how Hera and Sabine will feel about us just up and leaving the_ Ghost _._ ]

[ _I think they’ll understand, given the circumstances._ ] He would talk about it with Hera later. For now, Kanan was going to try and spend the rest of the evening trying to relax and enjoy their small victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want more context on Cal and his daiima, Rida, check out the prequel oneshot Tethered Fate :)


	8. The Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite good intentions, an accident sends everything spiraling out of control.

After a decent night’s sleep and a quick shower, Sabine was looking over the scan Chopper had taken of the Inquisitor’s collar. Unfortunately, the entire collar was magnetically sealed. There was only a small window for a bioscan, and that was the only point where Chopper’s scan had been able to penetrate and get a glimpse of the collar’s innards. And even that small glimpse showed the electronics to be incredibly intricate. 

There was a knock on her cabin door. “Come in,” Sabine said.

The door opened and Hera stepped inside. “How’s it going?”

Sabine sighed. “Slowly. The Empire poured a lot of resources in designing this collar. They _really_ wanted to make sure it was next to impossible to tamper with.”

“Well, Thirteen is a Force user with a lightsaber,” Hera said flatly. “I imagine the Inquisitorious wanted to make sure someone with that much power couldn’t break free.”

“Honestly, it’s a real work of art,” Sabine said, looking over the schematic again. “The magnetic seal is a stroke of genius because not only can you not just cut the damn thing off, it’s almost impossible to get a proper look at how the damn thing ticks.”

Hera frowned, glancing at the datapad. “There’s no way to cut the power to the seal?”

“Maybe…” Sabine said hesitantly. She blew up the schematic and pointed at one component. “I’m pretty sure this is a powercell. If I go in through the bioscanner and cut it out, that will theoretically shut off the collar.”

“Theoretically?” Hera echoed.

“Look, this isn’t much to go off on. Pretty much anything we do is going to be an educated guess.”

Hera hummed thoughtfully, her arms crossed. “Well we have to at least try. We need our modulator back.”

“I know, I know…” Sabine said with a sigh. “Still, this is going to be delicate work. How is this Inquisitor going to feel me hovering right next to him for a while?” She kept her voice light, but that was her bigger concern at the moment. The Inquisitor was standoffish to begin with. She trusted Kanan and Nara to protect her if need be, but she would really appreciate it if it didn’t _need_ to _be_. 

“We’ll play it by ear,” Hera said. “We’ll all be there if Thirteen or his daiima tries anything.”

“That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence…”

“Well, we can start by having Chopper trying to hack the collar first.”

Sabine snorted. “He’s not exactly known for being delicate.”

Hera smiled. “That’s fair. But we can wait another day if you want to spend more time going over the scan.”

Sabine shook her head. “No. There wasn’t much to go over to begin with. If I stare at it any longer, I’ll probably start seeing things that aren’t there.”

“Alright… Kanan commed a few minutes ago. They’re ready if you are.”

Letting out a soft breath, Sabine nodded, grabbing her toolkit and following Hera down to the cargo bay. Chopper was waiting in front of the door grumbling discontentedly. 

“Yeah, you and me both,” Sabine said dryly. 

Chopper turned and unlocked the cargo bay door, rolling in when the door opened. Sabine and Hera followed closely behind him. Nara was curled up on the estrade in the corner. Kanan was standing with his arms crossed in front of the Inquisitor, who was sitting on the cot. His daiima was still in tooka form, curled up by his feet.

It was interesting to her that the daiima wasn’t just any ordinary tooka form. She specifically had the markings of a lothcat, a tooka subspecies endemic to Lothal. But the Inquisitor couldn’t have been on Lothal for long. Perhaps she just saw a lothcat and happened to like the look of them?

Not that it was important. It was just a little strange. 

The Inquisitor’s back was stiff as he kept his eye on Sabine and her toolkit. He visibly swallowed, his jaw clenching. His knuckles were white as he clenched the edge of his cot tightly.

“Thirteen’s ready for us to deactivate the beacon,” Kanan said. 

“I’m sorry, what’s this _us?_ ” Sabine said as she grabbed a crate and pushed it over.

Kanan chuckled, his hand ticcing and slapping his thigh. “Fair enough. But we’ll all be here if you need any assistance.”

 _Or if the Inquisitor tries anything_ , Sabine silently finished for him. It did make her feel marginally safer considering she was about to get real close with a kid who had been literally trained to kill Jedi. 

Sabine slowly sat down on the crate and opened her bag. “First thing I’m going to do is take out the bioscanner.”

The Inquisitor didn’t move. In fact, it was difficult to tell if he was even breathing. But his eyes were locked on her hands as she pulled out a micropoint. Sabine took a moment to look him over. It was strange to see someone so _small_ so obviously filled with repressed anger and suspicion. A part of her that wanted to talk to him like the child he was, but she knew he probably wouldn’t react well to that. “Can you lean your head back?”

Thirteen’s breathing evened out as each of his breaths deepened. He wasn’t hyperventilating, but he was obviously trying to keep his emotions under control. Sabine was finding that he was actually quite easy to read. 

“Look, this will go easier if you just tilt your head back. If all goes well, I’ll at least have this thing powered down in a few minutes.”

The Inquisitor swallowed again, and Sabine couldn’t help but wonder how _uncomfortable_ the action must be with that tight piece of durasteel pressing against his throat. Then, with a barely discernible sigh, Thirteen leaned his head back. 

Sabine took a deep breath to steady her hand before she leaned in. First, she traced a finger around the bioscanner. It was a black reflective oval embedded in the durasteel. She tested the edge of it with her fingernail, confirming that there was a small lip there to hook on to. Biting her lip, she carefully worked the micropoint underneath the edge and slowly started to work it out. 

The Inquisitor’s breathing was uneven and shuddered, but otherwise he didn’t react or move as Sabine worked. He was staring up at the ceiling, his hands clenching and unclenching the cot. 

Once Sabine managed to ease the bioscanner out, she gently put it to the side, making sure the wires stayed intact. Chances were, any attempt to sever the scanner directly would result in a feedback loop. If she wanted to avoid that, she had to go directly for the power source.

A fine tremor ran through Thirteen’s body, making Sabine pause in her work. “Something wrong?” she asked.

“N-No…” he murmured.

Sabine gave a single nod and got back to work. Working the micropoint deeper into the collar, she maneuvered it around a couple components to get to the power cell. Once she had the tip pressed against it, Sabine checked the readout to confirm that this was in fact the power.

“Alright…” she said. “Now I just need to sever this connection…”

A staticky numbness suddenly swept up her arm, the muscles in her forearm tensing and locking. Sabine let out a cry and instinctually jumped back just as the pain started to hit. 

Thirteen didn’t have that luxury. His entire body seized, arcing violently and knocking the cot to the side. His rigid body fell to the ground, twitching like an insect’s final grasp for life after being crushed. 

Before anyone could make a move to help him, his daiima instantly swelled with a piercing cry, standing over Thirteen in the form of a nexu. Her spines were heckled as she snarled at Sabine, knocking her back onto the ground. Sabine's ears were ringing as she scrambled back from the beast. 

Kanan and Nara tried to step closer to help, but the daiima turned to them and let out an angry hiss, her claws scraping to the durasteel floor. Beneath her, Thirteen’s body had finally gone limp, his breathing ragged and bordering on whimpering as he panted. 

“It was an accident,” Nara said earnestly, lowering her body and pushing her ears back to be less threatening. “We didn’t mean to hurt him…”

The daiima just continued to snarl, her double tail whipping through the air threateningly. She had crouched down so that Thirteen’s body was almost completely obscured. 

There was a hand on Sabine’s shoulder, making her jump and snap her head over to see Hera kneeling next to her. “C’mon…” she said quietly.

Sabine’s chest tightened as she shook her head and pulled away from Hera’s grip. “No, I need to fix his collar…!”

“Right now, we need to leave,” Hera said, keeping her voice underneath the chaos of Kanan and the daiima. Even so, she spoke quickly and with urgency. “His daiima is not going to let you anywhere near him, we need to give them _space_.”

The captain didn’t even wait for Sabine to respond as she grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up to her feet. The world swayed slightly, and she only stayed upright by leaning against Hera as she was led out of the cargo bay. 

When they got out to the brighter loading dock where the atmosphere didn’t seem quite as close, Sabine could help but gulp in a gasp of air. Her legs buckled and she slid to the ground, curling up and burying her head into her arms. Her strained breathing was suddenly very, very loud.

There was a warm hand on her back and a hard bit of durasteel on her knee. “... It wasn’t your fault, Sabine.”

She looked up to see Hera sitting just to her right and Chopper to her left. Chopper gave a small warble about stupid collars which made Sabine give a small smile. But it quickly faded as she remembered Thirteen’s body jerking on the floor. “I was stupid. _Clumsy_. I shouldn’t have - ”

“ _We_ shouldn’t have pushed you. You had almost nothing to go on, and we were impatient.” Hera’s regret was evident in her expression as she gave Sabine’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’m sorry…”

Sabine turned back to the cargo bay door. It didn’t feel right to just run away after she had literally electrocuted the kid. “Shouldn’t we be helping?”

“Let Kanan and Nara handle it. The last thing we want to do is crowd him after what happened.”

Sabine cringed at that. Hera was right, of course, but guilt still churned in her stomach like rotten butter. 

“Kanan will comm if he needs any help,” Hera assured. 

“What are we even supposed to _do_ with him?” Sabine suddenly asked. 

There was a pause. “I beg your pardon?”

“Like, I _get_ getting the collar off him. And I _know_ he’s just a kid who’s been tortured and brainwashed by the Empire, but he’s still _brainwashed and working for the Empire_. What are we supposed to _do_ with him? We can’t keep him locked up in the cargo bay forever. Besides, Kanan’d probably die of sleep deprivation…”

“I’m… talking to some people.”

Sabine rolled her eyes. She meant _Fulcrum_. “And you think these _people_ can help him?”

“I do,” Hera said with conviction. “I’ve also been talking to Kanan. Once we get the beacon figured out… we have some options.”

A part of Sabine was annoyed that Hera was hedging, but she was still overwhelmed, her body shaking with the last remnants of her adrenaline rush. 

“C’mon,” Hera said, grabbing Sabine by the arm and helping her up. “Let’s get some of last night’s stew into you. It’ll help calm you down.”

Sabine just nodded, feeling sick as she glanced back one last time at the cargo bay door. She just prayed that she hadn’t completely screwed everything up.

* * *

Snarling and harsh voices mixed together incoherently. Anger and regret that weren’t his own pounded the inside of his skull from two different directions, threatening to split his head in half. A familiar tingling pain was reverberating through Thirteen’s body. He had to get up. Otherwise he could expect another punishing shock. 

With a moan, he tried to roll on his side only to be stopped by a layer of warm fur right above him. The body was trembling with low rumbles as it growled in anger.

It was _her_. She was standing over him. Panic made Thirteen’s heart skip a beat. What was she doing, confronting his master?! She knew what the consequences were…!

Thirteen automatically reached up for his collar and he felt… wires? He frowned. This wasn’t right. Something was wrong. 

Regret echoing in his head… What was this? It wasn’t his Asset. It couldn’t be his master…

_“Alright… Now I just need to sever this connection…”_

That Mandalorian… _She_ did this to him. Keeping a protective hand over the loose parts of his collar, he pushed his other hand up against his Asset to push her away so he could sit up on his knees. Thirteen blinked through his tears to see Kanan and Nara looking down at him. His Asset was in her nexu form, her body stiff with tension and standing between Thirteen and their captors. 

Thirteen managed to glare at them, his breathing shuddered. “Y-You…”

“It was an accident,” Kanan said earnestly, one hand raised placatingly while the other was punching his leg repeatedly. His eyes slanted with an emotion Thirteen didn’t quite recognize…

Regret. Thirteen was sensing the regret from _Kanan_. Thirteen shook his head in denial. It didn’t make any sense. “Please…” he murmured. 

He wasn’t even sure what he was asking for, but Kanan and Nara both immediately took a couple steps back that made Thirteen breathe easier. He sat up a little straighter and took in a slow inhale. His fingers were trembling as he held the dangling piece of his collar. Afraid he would pull the component out, he forced himself to let go. 

“I can put that back…” Kanan said softly, still punching himself on the leg in a manner that was anything but calming. “We don’t want it to discharge again.”

Thirteen could only stare at him. The words went into his ears, he recognized the shape of them but the meaning… it was completely lost. There was something wrong with him. He felt… unhinged. He couldn’t stop shaking, and he was having trouble getting his mind to latch on to any coherent thought. He was weirdly preoccupied with Kanan’s constant punching… 

[ _Hey..._ ]

Thirteen flinched and looked down. His Asset was sitting in front of him in a lizard monkey form. She was looking up at him with wide eyes as she gave a soft chirp. Her worry was sharp against his mind, dragging roughly against his shields. Very slowly she crawled up onto his lap. She raised her small clawed hands, and Thirteen could feel her fiddling with his collar. He could tell that she was replacing the dangling component, putting it all back together.

A tiny part of him wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her tightly. Just _feel_ her against his chest, nestled in his arms… But then his hands burned, and he knew he had to stay perfectly still. 

Once she was done, she quickly hopped down and shifted into a lothcat. She still put herself between Thirteen and the Jedi, her fur raised as she glared at him with a low angry moan. 

Kanan had gotten on his knees as he gazed between the both of them. He had finally stopped punching himself, both his hands pressed down against his thighs. The lothwolf Asset was also low to the ground, her ears slanted downward. “We didn’t know it was going to hurt you,” Kanan said.

The Jedi’s voice was quiet and gentle, and it grated on Thirteen’s nerves. “I’m sure,” he said with a scoff, rolling his eyes. He gripped his anger tightly, feeling it was the only thing keeping him together. 

“If we wanted to hurt you, we would have done so days ago,” Nara said, just as quiet. Her voice was bigger and more gravely than Kanan’s, but it was still softer than it usually was. 

Thirteen couldn’t take it. “Stop…”

Kanan frowned slightly. “I don’t know what…”

“ _Please_ just _stop!_ ” Thirteen yelled. He hit the side of his head. “This _thing_ you’re doing, these feelings, your kriffing… _everything!_ ”

Kanan’s frown deepened. “Ezra, I promise. I’m not doing anything…”

Thirteen’s head snapped up, the back of his head suddenly burning hot as his ears began to roar. The tremor that ran along his shoulders and down his arms began to shake harder. “H-How…?” he breathed.

Kanan shook his head. “Kid, you’re not making any sense.”

“How do you know that name?” Despite the increasing tumult inside of him, Thirteen somehow managed to keep his voice steady and even. 

Kanan’s eyes widened slightly, and Thirteen could sense his regret again as he shared a glance with Nara. Thirteen couldn’t make sense of it because he was still reeling from the fact that they _knew_. But how? How was that possible? That name wasn’t allowed, he didn’t even let _himself_ think it.

And then realization dawned on him. Just as it did, a wave of guilt and fear washed over him. 

Thirteen spun in his spot as he glared down at his Asset. “ _You!_ ” he snarled. “You _told_ them?! Why?!”

She didn’t answer. Of course she didn’t. She was a tool. A weapon to use. Her ears were flat against her head as she hesitantly took a step towards him, trying to reach for him over their bond… 

But all Thirteen felt was an all consuming burning rage. She gave him up to these Jedi. She told them what should never be known. 

She reached a paw towards him, but Thirteen flinched back with a guttural hiss before smacking her head with the back of his hand. “You _TRAITOR!_ ”

There was a flurry of motion, a shout and a fierce growl as Thirteen found himself knocked backward. As his back hit the ground, he quickly used the momentum to flip backward and land in a crouch to face the enemy. Thirteen gasped as he felt a painful _pull_ , and his breathing shuddered. His Asset was cowering away from him, having stepped back to the limit of their tether. Nara was standing over her, blocking his Asset from view as she bared her teeth at him. 

Thirteen couldn’t help the tremble that ran through his body as he took a step back. The wolf's eyes flashed with some sort of emotion… Frustration? Regret? _Anger…_

_The nexu’s eyes flashed as he stalked Thirteen, his teeth bared as he hissed with carnivorous hunger._

“N-No, I…!” Thirteen fell to his knees, putting his hands in front of him placatingly. Something hot and wet was falling down his face. “I-I’m sorry! P-Please, _please!_ ” His mind was hot and locked in a durasteel cage. His fear and desperation were bursting through the cracks, threatening to break free, but if that happened, Thirteen knew there was no going back. 

He just didn’t know what he was supposed to _do_ anymore. There was no way he could kill the Jedi alone. But he had to _try_ , right? Otherwise his master would rip him apart in body and soul, locking him away in those boxes forever and ever with no reprieve, not even a _glance_ at his Asset…

But what did it matter? His Asset had abandoned him anyway. He was alone. He was going to break, and there was going to be nothing left. 

With a strangled choke, he clutched at his chest and curled in on himself, pressing his forehead to the ground. There were soft plops as tears fell onto durasteel, the cage in his head dissolving to ash as his mind ripped asunder. 

Eye See Thirteen ceased to be. He wasn’t a weapon. He was _nothing_. And he couldn’t serve the Empire if he was nothing. 

There was something warm on his shoulder, and he flinched away with a small keen. Even knowing he was going to be punished, he still couldn’t pull himself back together. It was hopeless. What was the point?

“We’re not going to hurt you.”

It was a different voice. Softer and deeper than his master’s with a darker timber. It matched a presence that was gently brushing against the edges of his fractured mind. A sob bubbled out of him before he pressed his hands against his mouth, trying to muffle it.

“Shh…” The warmth on his shoulder was back, and this time he didn’t bother to move away from it. “This isn’t the end,” the voice went on. “I know it feels like it… but you still have a life in front of you. You and your daiima.”

His daiima. The Jedi word for his Asset. His other half… 

[ _Ezra…?_ ]

His head snapped up, and he saw her inches away from him. Her ears were still low, but she had a scaled paw raised towards him. 

He quickly shook his head, retreating away from her. He couldn’t do this. He was empty. He was nothing. She was… something detached, and he didn’t deserve to see or touch it. He crawled backwards until his back hit durasteel, and he curled back up again. Twisting his fingers in his hair, he blocked out the world and retreated within himself. 

* * *

She didn’t know what to do. Ezra had completely shut down in a way she had never seen before. Even throughout all of their training on Arkanis and Nur, he had never completely cut her off. Not like this. She whimpered, walking over to him. [ _Please_...] she begged. She couldn’t stand to be alone like this. She just wanted him to be happy.

A large white muzzle was wrapped around her front and pulled her back. “I know it’s hard…” Nara said. “But it might be better to leave him be for now. He needs to process this, and I don’t want him lashing out at you again.”

She understood Nara’s intentions but she couldn’t just leave him! It’s not like he had hit her hard. He was hurting, suffering, there had to be _something_ she could do!

But there wasn’t. She wilted under the realization. Her very existence always just made things worse. She should just stay back. Stay away… 

Nara gave her a small lick across her head, and she could cry. This wasn’t fair. This kind of affection… it was something she had never had before. She had never earned this. Why did she get comfort while Ezra continued to suffer?

The Jedi’s Asset pulled her in closer to her large warm body. “I know,” she whispered. “Trust me… I know.” 

Kanan was still kneeling on the ground between Ezra and the two of them. He was only looking at Ezra, apparently not hearing their exchange. She could only stare at him, dumbfounded by the idea of someone else wanting to _care_ for Ezra. 

But what if this was a trick? A lie. What if he was going to hurt Ezra just like everyone else…?

“Shh…” Nara hushed, licking the top of her head again. 

Kanan slowly inched closer to Ezra, once again putting a hand on his back. Ezra didn’t have any outward reaction, his breathing still hitching with tears as he trembled uncontrollably. Kanan leaned in even closer, reaching out so that his hands were on both of Ezra’s shoulders. “Thirt… Ezra. Ezra, look at me,” Kanan said softly. 

She shuddered against Nara. It was an order. While his resolve to stand defiant against the Jedi had been steadfast, she knew that it had all collapsed. He wasn’t going to be able to resist. Very slowly, Ezra raised his head to look at Kanan, tears running down his flush face as he blinked slowly at him.

Kanan gave a strained smile. “Let’s get you back to your cot so you can lay down. Okay?”

Normally, Ezra would have balked at being spoken to like a child. But now he just meekly nodded, his eyes going unfocused as he gazed down at the ground. 

With a soft sigh, Kanan helped Ezra to his feet. Ezra was shaking so badly he could barely stand, so Kanan wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him. Ezra swallowed compulsively as Kanan helped him the few steps to the cot, stumbling onto it and curling back up into a tight ball. 

Nara let out a low rumble as she nuzzled her nose against her neck. “Do you want to sleep closer to him?”

She let out a whimper. Of course, she always wanted to be with Ezra. Their entire life, she had never been able to just… _be_ with him. Not the way Kanan and Nara were together. But she was a mistake. She was the reason Ezra had been sent to the Inquisitors in the first place. 

And selfishly… She wanted to stay curled up against Nara. This soft warmth and open affection was like nothing she had ever experienced before. She felt like she was actually a sentient being rather than just an echo or a mirage that merely existed in Ezra’s presence.

“We can stay close,” Nara whispered, laying down fully on the ground. She was nestled between Nara’s front paws, the both of them just a few feet from the cot. 

Kanan looked over at them for a moment with an unreadable expression. Then he went over to the corner of the cargo bay and grabbed a blanket from the pile he and Nara usually slept on. She watched curiously as he carried it back over, walking straight towards Nara. She cowered away, taking a step back to put Nara’s large body between herself and the Jedi. 

He was out of view, but she heard his footsteps pause. Nara’s chest rumbled slightly, and Kanan gave a soft sigh. When she peeked out from around Nara, she could see Kanan shaking the blanket out and placing it over Ezra. Ezra’s back was to them, and all she could tell was that he was still trembling. 

She couldn’t help but let out a little whimper. She had no idea what to do. Ezra or his master always told her. Now that Ezra had completely cut her out… she was completely rudderless. 

Nara shifted, using her muzzle to guide her back between her front legs. “Try to rest,” she said quietly. “I know this is scary… but I promise he’ll be okay. You both will.”

It didn’t seem real. None of this did. But there was a warm hum in her head, and Nara pulled her in to lean against her chest. She couldn’t help but close her eyes and curl up against her chest. It was almost as nice as when Ezra would hold her. 

She couldn't sleep. Not while Ezra was still awake. But she was able to doze, lose herself in the foreign feeling of safety.


	9. Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thirteen - Ezra - has to reconcile who he is.

A part of Kanan knew he should go speak with Hera about what to do next. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave Ezra in this state. 

Not that he had any clue as to what _else_ to do. Kanan might understand what Ezra was going through, but Kanan hadn’t been alone all those years ago. He had had Nara by his side. _They_ might have been alone, but they had still been _together_. They had kept each other sane in the aftermath of their escape. 

But Ezra’s relationship with his daiima was twisted and warped. They were both petrified of affection, no doubt having had it beaten out of them. Kanan and Nara's tether might have been ripped apart, but they had always had the knowledge that they were still part of one another. 

Ezra and his daiima were separated not only by their trauma but by their lack of education. Neither understood what it meant to be jemma and daiima. And that wasn’t going to change unless Kanan and Nara took the time to teach it to them. But given the circumstances… where did they even start?

[ _We start with her_ ] Nara said, looking down at the trembling lothcat. She was tucked in tightly against Nara’s chest, buried in her fur. All things considered, the little daiima seemed to be adjusting much more easily than Ezra. At least, she was certainly warming up to Nara. 

Kanan glanced at Ezra. He was still curled up, his half-lidded eyes barely visible beneath his mop of hair. He was catatonic. Between the disastrous attempt to deactivate the beacon and the revelation that his daiima had told them his birth name… he had shut down. 

Kanan tried to remember what had pulled him out of his… _haze…_ while he had been on Denova, but it was difficult. His memory of that time was fuzzy, the days all blurring together. He and Nara weren’t even certain how long they had been there. They had just gone through the motions of surviving while Kanan recovered from his injury. They might have stayed on that planet forever if it wasn’t for Kanan’s desperate need to be near other people. The isolation had been necessary for them to recover, but eventually Kanan couldn’t take the loneliness any longer. It might have been safer to stay, but… 

But right now, the unfortunate fact was that they didn’t have the privilege to just hide on some remote planet. Particularly not with that karking beacon still active. They couldn’t risk the Inquisitorious getting their hands on Ezra and his daiima again. It would destroy them. 

Nara was right. Ezra’s daiima was much more willing to accept what Kanan and Nara had to offer. In a strange way, perhaps being treated like an afterthought, like a being of little consequence, had kept her less susceptible to their brainwashing.

Kanan growled, his chest constricting. Maybe Nara was simply better at connecting to her. Even with their bond, Kanan didn’t seem to be doing Ezra any good…

[ _Stop it_ ] Nara scolded. [ _You can’t do him any good if you start spiralling._ ]

Kanan sighed. Once again, she was right. But knowing that didn’t give him any insight on how to even begin to help the kid. 

There was a knock on the cargo bay door, and Kanan briefly reached out to confirm that it was Hera. He glanced at Nara. 

[ _Go_ ] she said. [ _I’ll keep an eye on them both_.]

Kanan gave a curt nod before getting up to walk out. It wasn’t like he was doing Ezra any good just sitting there anyway. And he really did need to talk to Hera. 

He stepped out and the door closed behind him. Hera was holding a couple containers of fresh food, some form of curry. Her eyes were narrowed slightly in sympathy. “How is he?” she asked softly.

Kanan gave a humorless chuckle. “He’s completely shut down and catatonic on his cot,” he said dryly.

Hera cringed. “You know, Sabine feels awful…”

“It wasn’t her fault,” Kanan said, his tone softening slightly. “She obviously didn’t know what was going to happen. Besides, it wasn’t just that. I think the bigger contributing factor was finding out his daiima had told us his name.”

“Oh.” Hera gave a slight frown. “And that is…?”

“Ezra.” It occurred to Kanan that he should have told Hera earlier, but that time had passed. Besides, it would have only increased the chance of accidentally revealing that Ezra's daiima had spoken to them behind his back.

“I take it he didn’t react well?” Hera asked hesitantly.

Kanan shook his head. “He viewed it as a betrayal. He… He hit her. Nara knocked him back to stop him… It all just devolved from there.” He pressed his lips together. “No one’s physically hurt, so I suppose that’s something.”

Hera nodded slowly. “I suppose…” She thrust her hands forward. “Here’s dinner. Sabine made her version of a Mandalorian stir fry with the ingredients we had.”

Kanan gave a small smile. “Tell her it’s delicious.”

“You haven’t tried it…” Hera gave a knowing smile. “... but I will.”

Kanan’s smile widened. “I don’t think Ezra is in the mood to eat, but I know I’ll appreciate it.” He sighed and looked back at the cargo bay door. 

“Kanan…”

He looked back at her and found that she was also looking at the door contemplatively. “What is it?”

She pressed her lips together, her brow knitted together slightly in thought. “Did you… Were you and Nara ever like them?”

Kanan shifted, his hands tightening on the container. “You mean did I ever treat Nara as just a tool?” he clarified, choking on the last word.

Hera slumped slightly. “I know you don’t like talking about your past. But if you’re going to help him… you’re going to have to process what happened to _you_ as well.”

Kanan closed his eyes and shifted so he was facing away from Hera. She wasn’t necessarily wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to even consciously acknowledge anything before Denova. It would send him spiralling into a dark cold hole, and then he would _definitely_ be of no use to Ezra. 

“Maybe not right now,” Hera added quickly. “But you and Nara understand what Ezra and his daiima are going through better than anyone. If you want to get them through this, to recover from what the Empire put them through… You need to pull yourself through your own trauma. You and Nara both.”

“I _have_ pulled myself through,” Kanan said exasperatedly. “We survived, we kept ourselves from falling…”

“Surviving isn’t the same thing as recovering, and you know it,” Hera said sternly. “ _Ezra_ has survived what the Inquisitorious has done to him. But that’s not enough. Ezra, his daiima, you and Nara… you all deserve to _live_ without the shadow of the Empire haunting you.”

“This _Empire_ didn’t do this to me,” he practically snarled as he shot Hera a glare. Then he gave a bitter chuckle. “In fact, in a way, the Empire _saved_ us!” He probably would have gone on, but Hera had taken a small step back, and while she remained outwardly calm, Kanan could sense a hint of her fear. 

So with a shaky sigh, Kanan looked away again, suddenly very aware that his breathing was harsh and his limbs were shaking. “The answer is _no_ ,” he ground out. “I never treated Nara as just a tool. Even when I couldn’t…” He touched the side of his head, echoes of icy hot pain pulsating from the site. “No,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Hera nodded slowly. “Well, it seems like the first thing you need to do is help Ezra reconnect with his daiima. Maybe even learn her name.”

Kanan gave a small smile. “Yeah. Sounds like a plan. You know, after we get his damned collar off of him.”

“Actually, about that… I might have an alternative solution.”

Kanan raised an eyebrow. “Really? Just like that?”

Hera sighed. “I put out some feelers the day we left Lothal about our situation. Vizago got back to me a little while ago with a possible lead.”

Kanan gave her a skeptical look. “ _Vizago?_ Really?”

“I called in that favor he owes us,” Hera said with a small smirk. “Don’t worry. All I told him was that we have some Imperial tech with a locator beacon that we needed to have disabled. Apparently he has a go-to professional locksmith who specializes in old Republic and Imperial tech.”

“And what do we know about this locksmith?”

“Her name is Nova Kaadak. She lives on Nar Shaddaa. Vizago sends his lackeys there if he ever has something he needs opened, like particularly secure crates.”

“And what reason do we have to think she can get that collar off of Ezra?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not taking Vizago’s word on just faith,” Hera said. “I’m going to do a little more digging. If she’s as good as he’s claiming, she’ll have a reputation.”

“Okay…” Kanan sighed. “I just want to avoid having another incident like earlier.”

“Of course,” Hera said softly. 

Kanan turned back to the cargo bay door. “I don’t want to leave him alone any longer.” He raised the container of Sabine’s stir fry. “Thanks for the food.”

Hera smiled, putting a hand on his arm and giving it a little squeeze. “Comm me if you need anything else.”

Kanan smiled back. “I will,” he promised. 

Walking back into the cargo bay, he saw that Ezra and his daiima were finally asleep. Ezra’s body was relaxed and limp on the cot, the daiima curled up between Nara’s front legs against his chest. 

[ _Maybe I should have left earlier..._ ] Kanan thought wistfully. Nara gave a little growl of disapproval, and Kanan waved her off. [ _I was mostly joking..._ ]

She huffed. [ _What did Hera have to say?_ ]

Kanan quietly walked over to her, nestling up against her side before he pulled open the container of food. He gave a small smile at the smell. [ _She thinks she might have a lead on a lockbreaker. It’s no one we’ve heard of before, so she wants to do a little digging first._ ]

Nara twisted her head so she could gently nudge his arm with her nose. Kanan sighed and put a hand on her muzzle. As good as Sabine’s cooking smelled, he wasn’t really in the mood to eat. 

[ _You should get some rest_ ] Nara said. [ _You’re gonna wanna be refreshed when Ezra wakes again._ ]

[ _Yeah, you’re right…_ ] Replacing the lid, he set the container to the side. He just wasn’t hungry right now. He shifted so he could curl up against Nara. His face buried in her fur, he looked up one more time to glance at Ezra’s still form. 

More and more, Kanan was warming to the idea of retreating to Denova after they dealt with that collar. An isolated but relatively abundant planet, far away from civilization and still in neutral space… Ezra and his daiima could learn to heal without having to constantly look over their shoulders.

With thoughts of this hypothetical future dancing around his head, Kanan closed his eyes and slowly drifted to sleep.

* * *

_“Mommy?”_

_“Yes, little lothkitten?” she replied as she tucked Ezra in._

_“How come my heart hurts sometimes?”_

_His mother froze for a moment. Then she gave a soft sigh and sat next to him on the bed. “When does your heart hurt?”_

_“When I’m by myself, and I walk up to the door or windows…” He placed a hand over the center of his chest. “My heart starts to hurt.”_

_She bit her lip as she listened to him. “Well, it’s why we teach you from home. And it’s not always. Did your heart hurt when we went out to the park the other day?”_

_“No…” Ezra admitted. “Well, not all the time. But sometimes I go too far away and my heart hurts again.”_

_“Well, that’s why you need to stay close to us,” his mother said softly, running a hand over his hair._

_“But other kids don’t have to…” Ezra whined. They all seemed to run around freely, playing in the streets, going to school, even going to parks by themselves._

_“I know it’s not fair, sweetie,” she replied sympathetically. “But… I promise that someday, it’ll get better. When the Empire is gone and we’re free to live our lives… Things will be better.”_

* * *

Awareness came slowly to Thirteen. He was nestled on the cot, a warm blanket wrapped over his body. It was still disorienting to wake up like this, but today it was overshadowed by the hollowed out void in his mind. 

“You were asleep for a while.”

Thirteen looked up and saw the Jedi and his Asset sitting on their usual platform of blankets. And curled up between the wolf’s forelegs was his own Asset, gazing at him with large eyes.

Thirteen quickly looked away, sitting up and wrapping his arms around himself. His mind was swimming, although there was nothing consciously coherent. All he knew was that he was alone. He couldn't kill the Jedi. There was no way he could go back to Nur. As soon as his master realized this treachery, it would be the end of both of them in the worst possible way. His only recourse… was this Jedi.

He shakily got up, pushing the blanket aside. 

“Kid?”

Thirteen kept his gaze downward, ignoring the prickly foreign emotion that was pushing against his mind. He stepped up to where the others were sitting. He only glanced up for a moment at his Asset before quickly looking back down. It made his chest ache to see her with them… having completely abandoned him. 

He stopped just a couple meters from the Jedi and slid down onto his knees, bending over and pressing his forehead to the floor. With no other options or paths forward, he would surrender his will to this Jedi.

“Okay…” There was a pair of hands on Thirteen’s shoulders, making him stiffen. But all that happened was Thirteen was slowly pushed so his back was straight, and he was looking up at Kanan. “First things first: you never need to kneel to me. You don’t need to kneel to _anyone_. Not anymore.”

Thirteen gave a small shake of his head. This was all he could do. “I… I can’t go back…” he rasped, his body trembling.

Kanan’s shoulders slumped slightly, his eyes slanted in sympathy. “Do you want to?” he asked softly. “Did you _ever_ want to?”

The immediate and obvious answer was _no_. Thirteen had done everything in his power to get out of Nur, to get away from his master. All his efforts these last few days had been for the explicit purpose of making sure he wouldn’t have to be forced back into his master’s clutches. 

But now with the knowledge that he had utterly failed - and on his first mission as well - he found that having no certain future was so much worse. 

The sound of a hand smacking flesh had fear shooting through Thirteen, all the muscles in his back stiffening.

“Sorry, sorry…” Kanan said quickly. Thirteen looked up and saw him shaking his hand out. “It’s just a tic I have.”

Thirteen frowned slightly. He didn’t know what that meant, but the Jedi didn’t _seem_ angry. And Kanan _did_ seem to hit himself a lot for no good reason.

Kanan sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “C’mon…” 

He pulled Thirteen up to his feet and led him back over to his cot. Once he was sitting down on it again, the Jedi knelt in front of him. Thirteen almost rolled his eyes at the irony. 

“Your name really is Ezra… right?”

The question hit Thirteen like a jako beast running at him at full speed. His gaze went unfocused for a moment as he clenched his fists against his thighs. 

_“No! You can’t! Ezra! EZRA!”_

“I… I’m…” Thirteen squeezed his eyes shut. Hearing that name being spoken aloud made his chest tighten painfully. “I am… Eye See Thirteen…” he whispered. It was hollow in his ears, but the response was so deeply ingrained he didn’t know how else to reply. 

“No, you’re not,” Kanan said softly. “It’s not what your family called you, is it? They called you Ezra.”

Thirteen swallowed and looked away, his eyes burning. He dug his fingers into his legs, the fabric of his gloves squeaking against his pants. 

“The Inquisitors hurt you.” It was a statement, not a question. “They hurt you when you used your name, when you didn’t do what they wanted… But that’s not going to happen here.”

None of this meant anything to Thirteen. Kanan was just listing facts that he already knew. He had been stripped down and crushed then forged into a weapon for the Empire.

“Ezra…” Kanan placed his hands over Thirteen’s. Thirteen blinked at the pressure, staring down. Kanan slowly wrapped his fingers around his hands, pulling them from Thirteen’s thighs and holding them firmly. 

Thirteen couldn’t even breathe as he watched the action. His hands and arms were shaking uncontrollably. He had no idea what was happening right now.

“You’re more than what the Inquisitors did to you,” Kanan said quietly. “I don’t need the Force to know that. You just need… time.” He glanced back behind his shoulder. “You both do.”

Thirteen looked up and saw that his Asset had gotten up and was now standing just a meter away from them. He felt her hesitantly reaching out to him through their bond. 

Kanan sat back a little bit, giving Thirteen a clearer view of his Asset. “What do you call yourself?” he asked her. 

She looked hesitantly between the two of them. 

“She’s an Asset,” Ezra murmured flatly. “She doesn’t have a name.”

“No, she’s not.” Nara stood and walked over to them as well. Thirteen reflexively leaned back away as she got closer. Thankfully she stopped and slowly laid back down on the ground, putting her head near his Asset as she addressed her. “What did you call yourself before the Inquisitorious?”

His Asset trembled, lowering herself closer to the ground and pulling her ears back. She gave a small shake of the head. 

“It’s alright,” Kanan said gently. “You’re not going to get in any trouble.”

Thirteen frowned at the way they were speaking to her. It wasn’t just the attitude. He already knew that the Jedi treated their Assets differently, but the questions didn’t make any sense either. Before the Inquisitorious… she was just a voice in his head, the only real friend he had ever had. 

His Asset slowly backed away from all three of them in panic and confusion. She didn’t understand the questions either. 

“Little one…?” Nara questioned, inching a bit closer to her. 

“What did _you_ call her?” Kanan asked Thirteen.

“I didn’t call her anything,” Thirteen said. “I didn’t know she existed.”

A surge of confusion and horror rose in the Force, and Thirteen realized it had come from both the Jedi and his Asset. “You… you didn’t know she existed…” Kanan echoed, gazing at him in disbelief. 

Thirteen shrank into himself slightly. He gave a light tap on the side of his head. “Sh-She was just a voice. My conscience.”

Kanan looked between Thirteen and his Asset incredulously. “How old were you when the Empire found you?”

Thirteen quickly shook his head. He couldn’t think back. Not about any actual memories. His master would see, then she would rip into his mind and shred the memory to pieces. 

_Ezra was huddled underneath his bed, shaking uncontrollably as he listened to the shouting troopers. There was the sound of furniture being knocked over and loud stomping of boots. Ezra had his hands pressed tightly to his mouth, trying to muffle his crying._

_The door to his bedroom was slammed open and light streamed in. Ezra couldn’t help the gasp of terror as he scrambled away from the light, pressing his back to the far corner under the bed. White boots marched in, and Ezra squeezed his eyes shut as he prayed for the stormtroopers to just go away…_

“Ezra.”

Thirteen opened his eyes, seeing Kanan right in front of him again. He was aware again of Kanan’s hands holding his. The warmth of his hands was even starting to leak through Thirteen’s gloves. 

“I… I don’t remember,” he mumbled.

Kanan frowned slightly, and Thirteen got the impression that he knew that it was a lie. But instead of smacking him for his insolence, Kanan just gave his hands a squeeze. “Alright,” he said softly. “Well, she deserves a name…”

“Do you have any ideas?” Nara asked his Asset. Nara nudged her nose gently against her, and while she didn’t verbally reply, she did rub her face up against Nara’s muzzle in response.

Thirteen’s chest tightened painfully at the sight. He pointedly looked away, ignoring the burn in his eyes. He was silently grateful for Kanan’s grip on his hands. He didn’t feel quite so alone and disconnected. 

Kanan’s hand twitched as he gazed up at Thirteen. “You’ve never tried to come up with a name?”

Thirteen shrugged. “She’s my Asset…”

Kanan sighed, sitting back slightly. “She is not your Asset. She is your daiima. A part of your soul.”

Thirteen didn’t react. They keep saying this. And sure, while she _felt_ like a part of him in every part of his life, treating her like anything but a weapon had always resulted with both of them suffering for it. 

“But as I said… I know it’s just going to take time.” Kanan gave a shockingly relaxed smile. “But do you know what we should do now? Eat a solid meal.” He got up and walked over to the refrigeration unit and pulled out a container. “Hera brought us some freshly made food.”

Thirteen just swallowed and nodded, tucking his hands in his lap, scolding himself for missing the warmth of Kanan’s grip. 

As the Jedi prepared said food, Thirteen’s Asset slowly walked toward him. He kept his gaze firmly in his lap, his hands clenched together tightly. Her presence was humming in his head. [ _Ezra..._ ]

“Stop,” Thirteen whispered. He couldn’t take it. Not right now. His mind was completely shredded and raw, and having forbidden thoughts forced upon him was like dragging him over hot coals. 

A plate filled with mixed vegetables in a brown sauce was suddenly thrust into Thirteen’s view. He blinked and wordlessly took it. He still wasn’t used to these regular meals. The flavor was usually overwhelming, but he wasn’t about to complain about freely given food. Although right now, his stomach was tied in knots. It was empty and brief waves of nausea were washing over him, but the idea of putting anything into his belly made the nausea even worse. 

“Eat,” Kanan said, sitting down next to Nara. “You barely ate anything yesterday.”

“Funny how being electrocuted can kill your appetite,” Thirteen said dryly, poking at one of the soft veggies on his plate. 

There was another spike of regret. “Right…” Kanan said quietly. “Kid, about what happened… we screwed up. Badly. We were in a rush to deactivate the beacon and didn’t do our due diligence. You suffered for it, and it _shouldn’t_ have happened. I’m sorry.”

And with that, Thirteen instantly regretted saying anything at all. Kanan’s earnest guilt was bouncing around his head and giving him vertigo. 

He was going to throw up. 

The plate tossed to the side, and Thirteen ran to the refresher. There was some shouting, but it was nothing but incoherent gibberish as he slammed the door behind him. His ears were filled with sounds of strained high-pitched breathing, his vision blurring to the point where there was nothing but a grey static. 

He collapsed to his knees and retched, sour bile being forced up over the roof of his mouth and dribbling out. Coughing and gasping, he retched again, trying to force out the horrible feeling of caustic anxiety churning in his stomach. The strength of his retching made a couple tears roll down his face. 

Eventually he sagged against the toilet, panting harshly. He didn’t feel any better. His stomach was still churning painfully. There was a painful pressure behind his eyes but he _would not cry_. He had to grasp for any bits of control he had left. 

There was a knock on the door. “Ezra? Ezra, are you okay?”

“Stop _calling_ me that!” Thirteen barked. He tried to glare angrily at the door. “That’s not my name!”

There was a beat of silence, and for a moment Thirteen thought he might have imagined the Jedi’s voice. Then he heard a sigh. “Yes it is…” Kanan said. “But I’ll stop using it if you really want me to… Thirteen.”

Thirteen physically cringed at that, his stomach painfully rolling again. He wasn’t sure why. It was who he was, right? He was Eye See Thirteen. He was… a weapon…

But he wasn’t. He couldn’t be. Not when he couldn’t even accomplish the base aspects of his mandate. He really was just nothing. 

“Thirteen?” Kanan knocked on the door again. “Is everything okay?”

A spike of pain shot through his chest at the sound of that name. _His_ name. 

No, it wasn’t. He’s already established that he’s a failed Inquisitor. He had no hope, no future with the Inquisitorious after his disastrous failure. 

What… What _was_ he?

“Thirteen…?”

“ _STOP IT!”_ he screamed. “Just _stop_ it!” He was having trouble drawing breath but he _had_ to speak. This coiled up energy in his chest had to be yanked out of him and thrown out into the universe. “That’s not who I am! Not anymore! I am… just… _NOTHING!_ ”

And that was the real truth. It wasn’t just a feeling. It was a simple fact. 

He hadn’t thought it was possible for him to break apart any further, but what little of his self that was left simply melted and evaporated away. His body collapsed to the ground as his will drained out of him. His skin was boiling hot as he gasped for air, heaving sobs wracking his body. He accepted what he really was, the yawning void in his mind expanding and scraping up against the inside of his husk. 

Something grabbed him by the arms and pulled him from the ground. He couldn’t bring himself to care. His body was boneless as he was manipulated and pressed up against something warm. He continued to cough and gasp as the uncontrollable bawling ripped through him, but… 

“Hey, hey, shh…” a voice said softly. “You’re not alone…”

The warm wall rumbled pleasantly with the words. Something was wrapped tightly around his body, along with a steady pressure against the side of his head. It wasn’t a painful or punishing grip. In fact, it was oddly calming. And it was paired with a sweet earthy scent that had just a whisper of musk. Slowly, he found his sobs fading into panting hiccups. He blinked slowly, realizing his body was being rocked.

“Yeah, see?” the voice continued, just as soft. “You’re safe…”

A buzz on the inside of his skull swelled, and an ingrained instinct had his breathing shudder in anticipation of raking pain. But the pain never came. The buzz practically glowed inside of him, filling out his hollow shell. It was… soothing? For some reason, it made his tears stream down his face again in earnest. He couldn’t remember ever feeling like this.

“That’s it, just let it out… I promise, things will get better after this…”

He wasn’t sure how the voice could be so certain of that, but it was enough to have him relaxing into the warm earthy cocoon as he allowed himself to cry freely and fully accept what he really was… nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I'm working on finishing 50k words over November and December. I'm posting my progress on tumblr (of the same name) along with daily snippets if you're interested in following.


	10. Little by Little

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ghost crew figures out a plan to remove Ezra's collar, and Ezra slowly figures out how to put himself back together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't been posting regularly for a while. I had to put my cat down and it's more or less plunged me into a bout of depression lol.
> 
> I'm not back to posting regularly, but some fanart inspired me to put up another chapter^^

Kanan sat in the doorway of the refresher with Ezra nestled in his lap, carding his fingers through the boy’s sweaty hair. He could feel his shirt growing damp with tears, but Ezra’s mind was finally starting to unwind and let go. This was good. Kanan was grateful that it happened as fast as it did. It had taken him and Nara _years_ to reach this point.

[ _That’s because we were alone_ ] Nara pointed out gently. 

Kanan turned his head slightly. Ezra’s daiima was still curled up against Nara’s chest, Nara’s snout resting over her small body. [ _How is she?_ ] Kanan asked.

[ _Scared for Ezra… Uncertain._ ] Nara shifted slightly, tightening her embrace around the loth cat. 

That was certainly understandable. With a soft sigh, Kanan shifted his grip on Ezra so that he could stand. He kept the boy cradled to his chest, his head tucked against his collarbone, as he carried him over to the estrade. He took his usual seat next to Nara, leaning against her side as he readjusted Ezra to a more comfortable position in his lap. 

The boy didn’t seem to notice the change at all, just limply remained where Kanan settled him. Thankfully, he had stopped crying for now, although his breathing was still shuddered. At this point, Kanan was seriously concerned that Ezra was dehydrated. Not to mention his most recent meal remained scattered on the floor near the cot. 

“Ezra…” Kanan said softly. “Ezra, I’m going to set you down and get you some water.”

The boy didn’t give a response, but Kanan hadn’t really expected one. He slowly placed Ezra down on the estrade next to Nara. Ezra didn’t curl up on the platform like he had expected. In fact, Ezra put a hand out, stopping himself from laying down. He sniffed and sat up stiffly. He kept his gaze diverted as he pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. 

So Ezra wasn’t completely disconnected from the universe. He had enough wherewithal to at least have some sense of chagrin about being put down like a small child. Kanan would take that as a good sign. 

The muscles in Kanan’s arm strained as he kept himself from hitting his leg. He didn’t want to accidentally set Ezra off again. So he contented himself with clenching and unclenching his fist as he went to grab a packet of water from the cold storage. He had just grabbed it when there was a small noise, like a wounded animal. 

He turned around. Ezra’s daiima had crawled out from Nara’s chest and was now standing just a few small steps from Ezra. Her ears were low against her head as she looked up at her jemma in earnest. Ezra’s eyes were wide and filled with fear as he stared at the ground. No doubt he had sensed her approaching. Or he had just seen her out of the corner of his eye. From their previous interactions, it was obvious that Ezra and his daiima were disconnected from one another, although not completely severed like he and Nara. Cultivating and reopening their bond was going to be a challenge.

But like all things, they had to start somewhere. “Ezra…” he said carefully.

The kid’s eyes flickered up to him before quickly looking back down, a shiver running through his shoulders. The boy was terrified… of his own _daiima._

Kanan slowly sat down next to Ezra. “She cares about you, you know.”

Ezra glared up at Kanan. “She is an Asset…” he growled. Then his glare dissolved slightly into uncertainty. “I… I can’t…” he breathed in a half-whimper. 

The sound made Kanan’s chest tighten with pain. He gripped Ezra’s shoulder tightly. “Ezra, she’s a _part_ of you…”

An image, a scene, flashed before Kanan’s mind. There was an animalistic scream and burning pain in his hands. It echoed with the memory Nara had gleaned from Ezra’s daiima the other day. The Inquisitors had punished Ezra for giving his daiima physical affection. The most natural instinct a Force sensitive had…

“You’ve seen me and Nara,” Kanan said softly. “We won’t hurt you for holding your daiima.”

Ezra gave Kanan a stricken expression, his body trembling so violently Kanan feared he might fall off the estrade. “I’m… I-I’m not like you…” the boy mumbled.

Kanan gave a small frown, slowly sitting down next to him. “In what way?”

“‘M not a Jedi.”

Kanan sighed, tapping his fist against his thigh as he shared a glance with Nara. “We told you. We’re not Jedi.”

Nara gave Ezra’s daiima a slight nudge with her snout. “You’re both safe here. And you both _need_ this.”

Ezra just shook his head adamantly, scooting away from his daiima and practically shoving himself against Kanan’s side. Kanan was taken aback for a moment, but then he wrapped an arm around Ezra’s shoulders. Evidently, he had all at once become a source of refuge for the boy. While surprising, Kanan wasn’t going to complain. Force knows, the kid needed _some_ place to feel safe. He supposed it might as well be him…

Seeing her jemma’s reaction, Ezra’s daiima quickly retreated back to Nara, her ears low against her head. Nara lifted a paw and pulled her back up to Nara’s chest. The lothcat trembled as she buried her face in Nara’s fur.

[ _He’s just not ready_ ] Kanan thought sadly, slowly rubbing Ezra’s arm. 

[ _I know… and I know it’s only been a day, but…_ ] Nara lowered her snout, pulling the daiima more tightly up against her chest. [ _She’s just so desperate to be with him._ ]

[ _Well I don’t want him lashing out and hitting her again. That won’t be good for either of them._ ] Kanan knew that he needed to deal with Ezra’s base needs first. Then they could build up from here. He held up the water packet to Ezra. “Here. Drink this.”

Ezra blinked at the packet. Licking his lips, he took it from Kanan, cracking it open and taking a sip. The sip turned into chugging, Ezra squeezing it tightly to make the water come out faster. Kanan gave a small smile, trying to think when was the last time Ezra had any water. Definitely not since yesterday. There was no doubt he needed it after two intense bouts of crying. 

Food was next on the list. Kanan went to grab another water pack and his share of Sabine’s cooking. Sticking a utensil in the container, he walked back over and thrust it in Ezra’s lap. The boy took it reflexively, frowning and looking up at Kanan.

“Eat. It’ll make you feel better.” He also handed him the second water pack. 

Ezra nodded as he took it, cracking it open and taking a few more big gulps before proceeding to poke at his food. 

Kanan cleaned the cargo bay up as Ezra made slow progress on his food. He also moved the cot a little closer to the estrada so that Ezra’s tether with his daiima wasn’t strained the next time they slept. 

[ _There’s something else we’re going to have to address_ ] Nara pointed out.

[ _Oh?_ ]

[ _The fact that Ezra just thought she was a ‘voice in his head’ before they were taken by the Empire._ ]

Kanan paused in his cleaning to glance at them. Ezra had his head down, staring at his food as he slowly ate it piece by piece. Slumped over the way he was, he looked so young. It was hard to imagine the Inquisitorious approving a child this young like this for solo missions. 

_Nara overtook their target as he jumped through the dense jungle, igniting his blade. She jumped and pinned the Inquisitor’s daiima, the action causing the Inquisitor to trip and tumble to the ground with a grunt, her helmet falling off. Caleb snarled as he ran up and pointed his saber at her throat._

_Then his blood went cold. It was_ **_Vihi_** _._

Kanan viciously shoved the memory aside. He didn’t know why it came up. Vihi had not been nearly as young as Ezra. She was… maybe had been… several years older than Caleb. 

[ _He’s probably older than he looks_ ] Nara noted. [ _But we know that when they were taken, Ezra was old enough that the Little One could remember his name. And he recognized it when he heard it._ ]

Kanan didn’t want to go down this line of thought. To be old enough to remember his own name… Ezra probably had to have been three or four at least? How could he have lived that long and not known about his own daiima? 

_Ezra gave a light tap on the side of his head. “Sh-She was just a voice. My conscience.”_

Ezra would speak to his daiima in his head… but he had no idea she was something _separate_ from his mind. It implied they had never interacted physically before the Empire came and took him.

Kanan was intelligent enough that his mind automatically gave him a plausible scenario. Ezra had to have been cut off from his daiima from birth. Or at least very early on in his life. Ezra’s family must have confined his daiima somewhere and kept her secret and hidden from him. 

It was horrifying. Seething rage began to bubble up in Kanan. How could Ezra’s family _do_ that to him? Kanan couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like for them, to be completely disconnected from one another…

Well okay, maybe they had a _little_ bit of an idea. But at least they hadn’t had to grow up like that. Kanan and Nara grew up in the nurturing light of the Jedi Temple, where they were taught that their bond was sacred. They might be separate, but they were still one. So when they had been forcibly separated, it was - in many ways, still _is_ \- a living hell. But at least they already knew how to live _together._

Ezra and his daiima didn’t have any of that foundation. How were he and Nara supposed to help establish it?

[ _They need to feel safe first_ ] Nara said. [ _She might feel safe with me, but Ezra… He’s obviously lost. Like_ **_we_ ** _were lost._ ]

Kanan couldn’t help the growl that bubbled out. Those first… weeks? Months?... on Denova. That had also been the beginning of their new life. The soft line of Kanan’s memory that established _this_ life, separating them from the horrors of their life before. But this wasn’t an encouraging thought. That time had been lonely and agonizingly long… 

[ _We had been alone. He has_ **_you_** _._ ]

Kanan glanced at Nara, who was gazing at him intently. Right. He couldn’t spiral. Not now when Ezra and his daiima needed them. To her left, Ezra was still poking at his food, checked out from the universe. At least he was eating decently enough. It was better than nothing. 

Kanan sucked in a deep breath and sighed. There was no easy path forward. But for the sake of this child and his daiima… he would bring himself up to the task.

* * *

Hera was reading through a report sent to her via a secure channel from Fulcrum. Hera had requested the network to do some digging into Nova Kaadak, verify not only her skills as a lock breaker but that she would be trustworthy. From this report, she seemed legitimate. Fulcrum didn’t have personal experience with Kaadak, but she did have a decent reputation. She also wasn’t cheap. Given the complexity of the collar, Hera could only hope they had the credits.

It still wasn’t ideal. There was no way to contact her directly, but they had a location. Either Ezra would have to leave the safety of the Ghost, or they were going to have to go meet her first and convince her to do her work on the ship. The latter didn’t seem likely. Given the people she worked with, Kaadak wouldn’t put herself in a position to be kidnapped or hurt. There was also the matter of allowing a stranger with unknown ties onto her ship. Particularly if she’s knowledgeable with tech.

Ezra’s daiima might be able to shrink down and hide in his clothes, but there would still be a gap in time where Ezra’s collar wasn’t scrambled by the Ghost until Kaadak did her work. Even if there was basically no Imperial presence in Hutt space, it didn’t sit right with her to leave him exposed. Unfortunately… they weren’t likely to have any other choice. 

“Chop, I need you to adjust the hyperspace coordinates,” Hera said, standing up. “We need to get to Nar Shaddaa.”

Chopper growled at her as he watched her walk out of the cockpit. _Where are you going?_

“Checking in on my crew.” She needed to let them all know about the plan. Walking out to the cabins, she first knocked on Sabine’s cabin. 

The door opened, and the smell of paint and detonite hit her nose. Hera gave a small chuckle. “Working on something?”

Sabine leaned against the doorway. “Yeah, I have a new idea for some explosive paint.”

“ _Please_ tell me you’re not testing it on my ship while deep in hyperspace?”

“Of course not, Hera. I’ll do it when we get planet-side somewhere.”

There was a slight blue glow coming from behind her. Hera leaned slightly to see Sabine’s supplies laid out at her work bench… along with the hologram of Ezra’s collar. 

Sabine cleared her throat and shifted to put herself in Hera’s line of sight. “I know there was nothing more I could do,” she said, not looking up at Hera. “But… I thought I might as well see if there’s something else I could glean.”

Hera gave a soft smile. “Well, we may have a solution for Ezra’s collar. There’s a woman named Nova Kaadak who has expertise in this kind of tech. I’ve done some digging, and she seems legitimate. We’ll be arriving at Nar Shaddaa by tomorrow.”

Sabine frowned. “Nar Shaddaa is no joke.”

“I know, but Kaadak seems to be based in one of the main smuggling sectors. We certainly know how to act the part, so as long as we keep our heads on straight, we should be able to get in and out without much trouble.

“And how do you know this Kaadak can be trusted?”

“Well, she’s pretty far below the radar, which is good for us. It means she’s not trying too hard to get noticed. From what little I’ve gleaned, everyone who has worked with her has only high praise. We’ll need to get Ezra some different clothes as he currently looks every bit an Imperial, but other than that, there’s no reason for her to think Ezra’s anything but an escaped slave.”

The teenager hummed at that. “I mean… that’s basically what he is anyway.”

Hera gave a humorless chuckle. “I suppose you’re right.”

With a tired sigh, Sabine looked down in the direction of the cargo bay. “... How is he?” she asked quietly.

“I’m about to go down and check. Let them in on the plan.”

Sabine gave a slow nod. “Okay.” 

Hera put her hand on Sabine’s arm. “Listen, what happened - ”

“I _know_ it’s not my fault!” She yanked herself away from Hera’s hand. “Look, this entire situation is just insane! It was hard enough to get used to Kanan and Nara, but this Ezra kid? This _child_ who’s an Imperial agent? Who tried to kill us, who is _tiny_ , and looks to have been _tortured…?_ ”

“ _I know_ ,” Hera said firmly. “Nothing about this situation is easy. But you have to have _trust_. Trust me. Trust Kanan and Nara.” She shook her head. “I don’t really understand this any more than you do. But we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“I _do_ trust you guys. You know that. It’s just…” She gave a light scowl, pressing a couple fingers to her temple. “It’s just a lot to process.”

That it was. But while they were processing, they needed to keep moving. “Don’t work too late on your little project. I want you rested and alert when we touch down in Nar Shaddaa.”

“Yeah yeah…” Sabine said, turning back into her cabin. 

“And don’t obsess over the collar,” Hera added a bit more gently. “It’s out of our hands now.”

The teen only responded with a curt nod, stepping back into her cabin and allowing the door to hiss shut behind her.

Hera sighed as she made her way down to the cargo bay. She still felt horrible about what had happened. Sabine hadn’t deserved that pressure or this guilt that seemed to be lingering. But Sabine also knew how dangerous Nar Shaddaa was so Hera was confident that she would listen and make sure to rest before tomorrow. 

For a moment, Hera just stood in front of the cargo bay door. While she needed to speak with them, she didn’t want to intrude if Ezra was in a bad state. But she couldn’t hear anything, at least not through the durasteel door, so she knocked. 

It was only a couple seconds before Kanan opened the door. He looked exhausted. “Hey…”

“Hey,” Hera echoed back. “Everything alright?”

“More or less…” He spared a glance back. To Hera’s surprise, Ezra was curled up on the estrade with Nara. He was in the far corner, his back to the wall as he warily eyed Hera and Kanan in the doorway. 

“Just wanted to let you know, I finished looking into Kaadak.” Hera spoke a little bit louder so Ezra and his daiima could hear as well. 

“Oh?”

“She seems legitimate. At least, as legitimate as an underground locksmith can be. From all accounts, she’s good at what she does and doesn’t ask questions. Right now my only concern is if we can afford her. With something as complicated at that collar, it’s not going to be cheap.”

At the mention of his collar, Ezra sat straighter, his eyes widening slightly as he gazed at Hera. 

“We’ll figure out the creds,” Kanan said, crossing his arms. “On a moon like Nar Shaddaa, there’s no lack of work for us to do. Particularly with a ship like this.”

Ezra curled into himself again, raising a hand to touch his collar. 

“We’re also going to need to find him some clothes,” Hera said more quietly. “He can’t walk through the streets of Nar Shaddaa looking like an Imperial.”

Kanan hummed thoughtfully, his hand tapping his thigh. Hera noted that Kanan had been doing it nonstop since they had begun talking. “Sabine knows how to sew. Could she take some of my clothes and adjust them for Ezra?”

That was a comical notion. “Kanan… you’re three times the boy’s size.”

He gave a shrug. “Well unless you have a better idea…”

“I’ll talk to her. I don’t think she has much experience in specifically seam-stressing, but she might be able to just make something good enough.”

“Good enough is all we need. We also might be able to find something for him on the moon.”

Hera looked back over at the estrade. It took a moment for her to see the brown lump of Ezra’s daiima tucked up against Nara’s chest. Then she reached forward and grabbed Kanan’s hand to stop his tapping. “How are they?” she asked quietly.

Kanan exhaled through his nose, pulling his hand away and shaking it out. “I think… better? But not quite?” He huffed, going back to tapping his thigh. “Ezra had a bit of a breakthrough. At the very least, he seems to trust me.” He gave a hollow laugh. “At least, more than he trusts his own daiima.”

“That sounds like progress,” Hera replied hesitantly. 

“I suppose.” He sighed. “Ezra’s relationship with her is so twisted. Even _before_ the Empire got their hands on him, I think his parents forcibly separated them.”

“I…” Hera frowned, thinking over what she knew about daiima. “How would that even work?”

“I don’t know, but Ezra says he didn’t even _know_ of his daiima until the Empire took him. It’s the most reasonable conclusion I could come up with… Even if we hope it’s not true.” 

“Did he say what happened to them?”

“Happened to who?”

“His family.”

Kanan shook his head. “No… They’re probably dead.”

Hera nodded, her lekku twitching sadly. That did seem likely, although there was always the chance the Empire was using them as slaves. Something to look into later perhaps. If Ezra really was starting to trust Kanan, hopefully that meant he would start to open up. Maybe… Maybe there would be a way to get Ezra back to some sort of _home_. 

But only time would tell. “Well, we’ll be arriving at Nar Shaddaa by tomorrow. She’s in one of the smuggling sectors.”

“Does she know we’re coming?”

“I couldn’t find a way to directly contact her. Apparently she actively tries to keep a low profile. Vizago has to take his stuff to her directly, which is how I know where her operation is.”

Kanan gave a displeased hum. “So we have to drop in unannounced.”

“We don’t really have another choice.”

He shook his head. “No. I’ll meet with her first, get a feel for how trustworthy she is.”

“She’s a successful locksmith living on Nar Shaddaa. We can trust her to do the job and not ask questions,” Hera said flatly. “But you’re right, it can’t hurt to have a quick chat with her first. Maybe you can track down some more appropriate clothes for Ezra while you’re at it.”

Kanan nodded, running a hand over his hair. “So we’ve got a plan.”

“We do…” Hera looked Kanan over. He was obviously exhausted. It wasn’t just the incessant ticcing. The dark bags under his eyes were darker than usual, his skin was just a bit paler. His hair was a little disheveled when normally there wasn't a strand out of place. “Do you need any help?”

Kanan gave a stained smile. “I’m alright,” he said sincerely. “Just worried about the kid,” he murmured.

Well that was certainly understandable. “I’ll bring some more food down later.” She put a hand on his arm. “Try to get some sleep.”

Kanan’s smile softened slightly. “I will,” he promised. 

* * *

He was a shell. Worse than hollowed out. Scrapped to the very edge with a serrated, hot poker. And then stabbed for good measure.

He pulled at his collar. His feelings about it now were chaotic and disjointed. It wasn’t long ago that he was adamant that he needed to keep it. The collar meant freedom. It meant being able to stay away from his master. 

But none of that mattered anymore. He couldn’t go back. He had nothing. All he had was…

Kanan sat down on the platform between him and the Assets. There was that warm arm around him again along with the almost pleasant buzz in his head. He was trembling as he leaned into the warmth. It felt as though electricity was dancing across his skin, except it wasn’t painful or punishing. It just felt unnatural. 

“So… hopefully by this time tomorrow that collar will be deactivated.”

At the mention of it, he reached up to touch the hard durasteel again. Deactivated. Not removed. That’s what he wanted… right?

The arm around him squeezed slightly. It would have made him panic if not for the accompanying buzz. “Ezra?”

He swallowed hard. Ezra. His name. A name he had tried to forget. A name he _couldn’t_ forget because his Asset wouldn’t let him. His eyes burned, familiar echoes of betrayal circling his mind like a starving animal. He hated this. He hated _her_. 

His fingers began to ache, but he wasn’t really aware of it until a warm hand wrapped around his and pulled it away from his collar. He had been pulling on it hard. 

“If it’s alright with you… we can get that thing off completely,” Kanan said. “Throw it in the incinerator where it belongs.”

He looked down at the hand Kanan was holding. This was… so _nice_. 

“Would you want that?”

It took a moment for him to realize Kanan was asking a question. “I… What?” he replied.

“How would you feel about just taking off that collar?”

He swallowed again. The action was so pronounced against his collar. He wasn’t a part of the Inquisitorious anymore. And he already knew that no matter what he did, if his master found him, he would be as good as dead. No, _worse_ than dead… 

“... Take… Take it off…” he said. All of a sudden, it no longer felt like the key to freedom he had clung to before. It was just a piece of equipment slowly suffocating him.

“You want it off?” Kanan clarified.

“Yes!” he said desperately, pulling on it again. “Yes, please, pleasepleaseplease…!”

“Okay, okay!” He was pulled up against the warm wall that smelled of earthy musk. “That shouldn’t be a problem…”

His breathing shuddered, but the panic in his chest unwinded. He was trembling, still gripping the collar tightly. He wanted to rip it off right now, but he knew he couldn’t. But if what Kanan said was true, then it would be gone in just a day. 

And then… and then what? Where was he supposed to go? What was he supposed to do? All he had was this Jedi but he had no idea what that meant. What was Kanan going to do with him? He was always told that the Jedi were weak, traitors to the Empire. Kanan and the rest of this crew were certainly traitors given their actions on Lothal, but he didn’t seem weak. He and his Asset easily overpowered the two of them, despite the years of training. 

Maybe it was just him. _He_ was weak. He certainly _felt_ weak. All it took was a few days with this Jedi to completely break him down. Kanan even somehow turned his own Asset into a traitor.

No, that’s not true. There was a part of her that was always resistant to their master. To the Inquisitorious. It was part of the reason they got into trouble so much. Why it was so hard for him to submit like he was supposed to. 

“We’ll have to get you some clothes.”

He flinched at Kanan’s casual tone. He wanted to look up at him, convey his confusion at the statement, but he didn’t think he was physically capable of looking the man in the face.

“Can’t go into Hutt space in Imperial clothing,” Kanan went on. “Besides, you’ve been in them for days now. You’ll probably feel better once you get into some fresh clothes.” 

There was a pause, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to respond. He looked down at himself, at the tight black material that covered him neck to toe. The only armor he had was a grey gorget and two small pauldrons on each shoulder, both emblazoned with the white Imperial Cog. His stomach churned uncomfortably, his gloved hands trembling as he looked down at them.

“I… could give you a shirt and some pants,” Kanan offered hesitantly. “They’ll be too big for you obviously, but you’ll be able to get out of that uniform.”

He suddenly stiffened at that. The fabric clinging to his skin suddenly felt like a barrier, a place of refuge. 

_“You’ve done well today, apprentice~” A finger trailed down his back, making him shiver. “Perhaps we should get you out of that uniform. You’ve earned it~”_

All at once, the arm around his shoulders felt like ice. He jerked away from it, scrambling away until his back hit the wall. “N-No…” he murmured. He knew it was useless. If that’s what Kanan wanted… he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop him. He shouldn’t even be fighting back. It would just make it so much worse. 

“Hey hey, it’s fine! You can keep the uniform on for now if you want!” 

There was a slight pressure and an accompanying warmth on his hands. He blinked several times as he looked at the hands grasping his own. This was nice. This was fine. It helped that the buzz in his head pulled him down from his panic a little bit. He felt _okay_. Still sick to his stomach, still just waiting for the inevitable… but okay.

“Ezra…” That _name_ again. Stars, it was painful to hear. “I’m not trying to force you into anything. I just thought you might want to get out of those clothes… that they might remind you of the Inquisitorious.”

“I…” The syllable was choked. How could he even express what was going on in his head? He wasn’t an Inquisitor. He couldn’t be after what’s happened. But… he didn’t want to be touched like that. Not again. He thought he had escaped… 

[ _That’s not what he wants._ ]

He flinched violently. That voice… it was _her_. She was projecting her hesitation and her fear loudly through their bond.

“Shut up…” he murmured.

There was both confusion and hurt bouncing around in his head. They were conflicting beings, not fighting with one another, but pulling and pushing at Ezra from different sides.

[ _Ezra…_ ]

“Ezra?”

“Stop it!” He yanked his hands back, twisting his fists in his hair so that it pulled on his scalp painfully. Every echo of that name was like a punch to his sternum. Anger and frustration began to rise up in his chest. “All you’re going to do is get me into trouble _again_ so please stop!”

There was a short stretch of silence. Then there were those same warm hands on his own. “You don’t need to hurt yourself,” Kanan said quietly. “And no one here is going to hurt you for using your name.”

He violently yanked his hands down in frustration. “It’s _not_ my name. I-It _can’t_ be. I’m not that person anymore!”

To his surprise, Kanan gave a small chuckle. A slight shiver of anticipatory fear ran through him as he hesitantly looked up at Kanan. The older man was looking slightly to the side with a humorless smile. He seemed lost in thought.

“I know it’s hard,” Kanan said. “They stripped you of everything, and the idea of trying to go _back_ seems impossible. And… that’s because it is.”

He blinked. That hadn’t gone where he had expected. 

“You and your daiima… you’re never going to be what you were before you were taken. There is no _undoing_ everything the two of you have had to suffer through. But that doesn’t mean there’s no way _forward_.” Kanan turned his head and leaned slightly so he could put a hand on Nara’s back. “What’s past is past. You’re not machines or tools, you’re _people_.”

The sentiment just sounded so _wrong_ in his head. He didn’t feel like a person. He doesn’t think he ever did. There was always something wrong, something different and freakish about him. 

But he had to admit, the idea was kind of nice.

“If you don’t want to hear your name because it just doesn’t quite _fit_ you anymore…” Kanan gave a genuine laugh. “Then I understand. But if it’s _punishment_ you’re worried about, I _promise_ no one is going to hurt you or her just for using the name Ezra.”

He flinched again, but hearing the name this time was not quite as painful. He rolled it around in his head, gently, like it was a cracked crystal. Press on it in just the right place, and it would shatter into a million pieces. “E… Ezra…” he murmured, bracing himself for pain.

But there was none. There was just that warm buzz in the back of his head that was slowly melting his icy fear. 

“There, see?” His eyes flickered up to see Kanan had a small smile as he gazed down at him. “There’s nothing to fear here. Little by little… You can build yourself up again, put distance between you and the Inquisitorious.”

He swallowed, the presence of the collar weighing heavily on him again. It seemed like an impossible task.

Kanan slowly reached forward and put a hand on Ezra’s shoulder. “Why don’t we just start by taking those pauldrons off?”

Ezra looked down at his shoulder, his eyes drawn to the white cog. Echoes of his purpose, of his mandate, rang in his ears. 

_I am Eye See Thirteen. I am a weapon. I live to serve the Empire._

His breathing shuddered and his throat convulsed as the words tried to force themselves out. How many beatings had he suffered to utter those words? How many times did his master have to rip his mind open to _burn_ them into the very center of his being?

But even as the words tried to rip out of him, they tasted of bile at the back of his tongue. He wasn’t Eye See Thirteen. He couldn’t be. He couldn’t serve the Empire. He was less than useless. Now the words just sounded like an empty promise. A dream of sorts that he’ll never be able to achieve. 

So with a heavy heart, he reached up and detached the pauldron on his right shoulder. He held it for a moment, gazing at the black durasteel and the symbol that he had fought so hard for. All of his efforts - the blood, sweat, and tears - now seemed like they had been for nothing.

That’s really what he was. Nothing. ‘Ezra’ was just a label. Packaging. 

He slowly set the pauldron aside before removing the other and placing it next to the first. Then he looked back up at Kanan who was still smiling softly at him. Whatever his future held, it was entirely in this Jedi’s hands. He was just going to have to accept that.


	11. Catharsis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they approached Nar Shaddaa, Kanan and Ezra are slowly forced to confront and accept parts of their past.

While the rest of the day had passed more or less quietly, Kanan could sense a storm churning in the young boy’s mind. He had made a few attempts to get Ezra to open up a bit more and connect with either him or his daiima, but it was clear that Ezra was not ready for that yet. It was emotionally exhausting for all of them.

Not that the day had been a complete bust. Getting Ezra to shed off a part of the Inquisitorious so to speak was not insignificant. It gave Kanan a glimmer of hope. Maybe their recovery wouldn’t be as long and arduous as it had been for him and Nara.

Then again, Ezra was still completely ignoring his daiima. It was like he wanted nothing to do with her. It was painful to watch.

Kanan was curled up against Nara’s side as usual, watching the slow rise and fall of Ezra’s chest. They were still taking turns sleeping in order to keep an eye on their wards. Ezra was still wary of Nara, particularly with the cot’s new position closer to the estrade, but he seemed content with the proximity with Kanan. It was enough that Ezra could sleep peacefully.

However, a feeling was starting to trouble Kanan. At first, he couldn’t put his finger on it. But as the night wore on, he recognized it as a warning. The Force was telling him that something was coming. 

It wasn’t coming from Ezra. The boy was hardly a danger to them at this point. Kanan could only conclude that it had something to do with Nar Shaddaa. And that did not bode well. At all.

Of course, he had no way of knowing what the warning was for. It could be for Kaadak. It could be for something else entirely. Either way, it couldn’t be ignored. Not under these circumstances. 

The following morning, after Kanan had gotten the Ezra situated with breakfast, he confirmed with Nara that she was sensing it as well. And it was making her anxious, because there was no way she would be able to get away with accompanying him to meet Kaadak. 

[ _Just stay on guard_ ] she said to him worriedly.

[ _You know I will. We’ll keep our heads down, and hopefully this is nothing._ ]

Nara pawed the surface of the estrade in discontent. [ _Kanan, this isn’t a normal warning. It’s… something is going to happen._ ]

[ _Yes, I know_ ] he thought back tiredly. [ _But what can I do? We have to do this. I want this collar off of Ezra yesterday._ ] Kanan could feel a fearful hesitation from her. [ _What?_ ]

[... _I think you should take your lightsaber._ ]

The mere notion stabbed through Kanan’s chest like a lance. He clenched his fist against his thigh and growled. [ ** _No._** ]

[ _Kanan..._ ]

[ _What would even be the point? The moment I whip it out, you might as well have been with me!_ ]

[ _But you can_ **_hide_ ** _your saber! And if things really go bad, I’d feel a_ **_lot_ ** _happier if you had it with you and not!_ ]

All at once, he was nauseous. He hasn’t so much as _touched_ his saber since he and Nara had come aboard the Ghost. And he hasn’t ignited it even _once_ since Denova. The thought of hooking it to his belt _alone_ made his skin crawl. To even fathom _using_ it… 

[ _You need to be practical_ ] Nara went on, although her tone had softened. [ _Maybe I’m just overreacting, but I’d rather you be safe than sorry. Especially since you have to protect Ezra and the Little One._ ]

He had no counterargument for that. And as they neared the Smuggler’s Moon, there was no denying that the Force was getting louder and more insistent. 

Nara shifted her body slightly, causing Ezra’s daiima to readjust herself as Nara leaned over and pressed her nose against Kanan’s arm. She didn’t say anything but her desperate imploring sang loudly through their bond. 

Kanan sighed, his shoulders slumping as he relented. He placed a hand on her snout, rubbing it slightly. [ _Alright. I’ll take my saber._ ] 

Nara’s tail thumped a few times at that as she gave his face a small lick. Kanan gave a small smile and pressed his face to the side of her head, breathing into the fur. He wished more than anything that they could walk out together without fear. Their tether might be permanently damaged, but the physical distance they were forced to endure still hurt.

The hyperdrive powered down, signaling their arrival to Nar Shaddaa. Ezra noticeably stiffened, placing the bit of his meal bar aside. Well, at least he ate most of it. 

Hera’s voice rang out over the internal comm. “ _We’ll be landing on Nar Shaddaa in ten minutes._ ”

“Copy that,” Kanan said. He stood from the estrade. “I need to deal with a couple things. I’ll be back before we land.”

Ezra just gave a small nod, shrinking in on himself slightly.

[ _I’ve got them_ ] Nara assured.

Kanan gave a single nod before heading out and up towards the cabins. While he did want to check in with Hera once they had landed, he needed a few minutes to himself.

Walking into his cabin, he locked the door as soon as it shut. For a moment he just stood there and breathed, trying to keep his nerves calm. Then he slowly turned towards the bunk. 

The room was filled with _screaming._ A continuous cacophony of pain, fear, and anger seemed to echo off the walls. Most of the time he could block it out, but between the proximity and what he was about to do, it was near impossible. Kanan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on his shields. Nara was in the back of his mind, giving what little help she could to bolster his shields. 

Slowly, the screaming fell away. It was still _there_ of course, and that knowledge still made Kanan’s stomach roil uncomfortably. But at least it was no longer deafening in Kanan’s mind.

Smacking his thigh and blowing out a shaky sigh, he went over to kneel by his bunk and opened the drawer. Ezra’s half moon saber, smooth and simple… lying alongside his own. 

Kanan could only stare at it, at the dust that had built up on it. This object represented _everything_ from his and Nara’s past life. Their life before Denova. The good. The bad. Everything. And Kanan wished he could just forget every single one of those memories. There was hardly a single second that wasn’t tied with heart wrenching pain. 

But with Ezra and his daiima, he _couldn’t_. Kanan had to accept the painful fact that he wouldn’t be able to help them if he continued to run away from his past forever. He was going to have to draw from his knowledge and experiences… and that meant acknowledging them. 

He reached down and delicately picked up his lightsaber. For an absurd moment, he half-expected some sort of painful jolt or memory to force itself onto him with the contact. But nothing of the sort happened. The durasteel was cool against his fingers as he shakily wiped the dust off. His heart was heavy as he meticulously dragged his fingerpads along the groves and in between the flanges.

Once the durasteel was clean, he gripped the hilt tightly with a shuddering sigh. A lightsaber was a Jedi’s life. It was with bitter acceptance that he realized that this saber really did embody every aspect of his and Nara’s life. Even if they were not - _would never be_ \- Jedi, this saber had journeyed and suffered right along with them. 

His eyes burned slightly. _This weapon was their life_.

Kanan stood and twisted the saber apart into two separate pieces, hanging the hilt off a hook on his hip and attaching the emitter on the back of his belt. Back on Denova, he had reconfigured the saber so that it could break down like this. It was easier to conceal its true nature when separated. 

Hitting his thigh and taking another calming breath, he gave himself a small nod. Whatever was going to happen on this smuggler moon… he would be ready. 

* * *

Sabine’s fingers twisted as she reassembled her second pistol, giving it a spin before dropping it into her holster. Satisfied, she pulled her gloves back on and flexed her hands with a small huff. 

There was the soft hiss of a cabin door opening. It wasn’t her own, which gave her pause. Hera was in the cockpit landing the ship, so unless Chopper was raiding her room for some reason…

Sabine stepped out of her cabin just in time to see Kanan disappearing down the ladder to the loading dock. She frowned, turning to look back at the cabin next to her own. She knew it was _technically_ Kanan’s, but she wasn't sure she had ever seen him actually use it. The only time Sabine had seen Kanan up here was if he was spending time with Hera. And it was always in _Hera’s_ cabin. Otherwise Kanan spent most of his time in the cargo bay with Nara.

She glanced back at the ladder. As far as she knew, there wasn’t even anything _in_ Kanan’s cabin. So what was he doing in there now? Right before a job? 

Stepping over, she placed a hand on the door. It was locked, as usual. She could probably hack it if she wanted to, but she wouldn’t. Even if it did lead to some answers, she can't build the trust she was craving with Kanan and Hera by sneaking around behind their backs. 

It didn’t stop her from wondering though. Did Kanan keep anything in there? What would he want to keep locked away, separated from him and Nara in the cargo bay? Sabine doubted he had any Jedi artefacts considering he had been so young when the Jedi had been killed off. As far as she knew, he didn’t even have a lightsaber.

Or maybe Kanan had just used the room for a bit of isolation away from Nara to get his head in the game. Having Ezra and his daiima on the ship had certainly thrown him for a loop, no doubt he needed it. 

The ship rocked and suddenly stilled, indicating that they had landed. The engines powered down, and Sabine sighed as she also went down into the loading dock. There were voices from the cargo bay, so clearing her throat, she knocked on the door before opening it.

Nara was on the estrade as usual with Ezra’s daiima curled up against her chest. Ezra was sitting on the cot, looking up at Kanan who was standing in front of him with his arms crossed. They all turned to her as Sabine stepped inside. “I’m ready when you are,” she said.

Kanan gave a single nod, turning back to Ezra. “This shouldn’t take long,” he said. “If all goes well… we’ll have that collar off of you in just a couple hours.”

The kid’s body was stiff where he sat, his gloved hands squeezed together tightly between his knees. Ezra’s eyes drifted down away from Kanan as he gave a small nod.

Kanan gave a barely discernible sigh, stroking a hand over Nara's snout before turning to leave. “Kaadak’s place should only be a couple klicks from here.”

Sabine stepped aside and waved her arm out. “Lead the way.”

They walked out, the cargo bay door closing behind them. As the ramp lowered, Sabine glanced back, feeling pensive for reasons she couldn’t quite put her finger on. 

Then again... everything single thing that has happened this past week _might_ have something to do with it. 

Kanan walked out of the ship, and Sabine put her helmet to follow closely behind him. Hopefully this Kaadak person was the key to have something finally go _right_.

* * *

It was taking all of Ezra’s willpower to not bounce his leg nervously. He was about to burst with anxious energy from the fact that he was _alone_ with the Jedi’s _enormous Asset_. 

Kanan and Sabine had just left to meet with this lock picker. Apparently this person was a couple klicks away? It was with a growing sense of horror that Ezra watched Kanan leave not only the room but the _ship_ … with his Asset not even flinching at the distance. Kanan walking around the ship was one thing. It was an usually large distance, but it didn’t seem too unreasonable that this Jedi just had a longer tether.

But to be _klicks_ away from each other… It confirmed that Kanan really had been alone in Lothal’s Capitol City. It was nauseating to imagine. Ezra just couldn’t wrap his head around it. It just made him think of all the times he and his Asset were put into the Boxes. It made him want to vomit.

Although this begged the question, why hadn’t he been taught about this in the Inquisitorious? If this was a Jedi ability, it seemed important to know about. Unless it _wasn’t_ a normal Jedi ability… in which case, how was _Kanan_ able to do it? Was it related to the fact that they didn’t sleep at the same time?

A low rumble made Ezra jump up to his feet. His heart was pounding as he watched Nara slowly stand and stretch. Then she looked over at Ezra with her intense amber eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Ezra just looked away, swallowing down the sick fear that was rising up from the bottom of his belly. With Kanan gone, Ezra was very _very_ exposed. He barely had a handle on his own sense of self. Having to deal with anyone but Kanan right now was overwhelming. He felt like he was in a cracked shell, and at any moment it could shatter.

The wolf sighed, slowly stepping off the platform and ambling around the cargo bay. She seemed to be stretching out her limbs, which Ezra supposed wasn’t unreasonable. Nara had been laying down for hours now. But every little thing the wolf did had Ezra teetering on the edge of an abyss.

But his Asset was following Nara as she walked, which left Ezra in the uncomfortable position of having to endure the painful pull at his chest. They hadn’t even made a full rotation around the room before Nara suddenly stopped and looked at Ezra again. “You can come closer…” she said softly. “I promise I won’t bite.”

There was an echo of a piercing pain in his shoulder, and he immediately shook his head. “N-No thanks…” 

Nara let out a huff as she closed some of the distance between them. Ezra’s breathing caught in his throat, his body so tense it was trembling. But then she sat down, uncomfortably close but the pain in his chest had eased. “It can’t feel good to be keeping yourself so far from your daiima.”

His eyes slid down to her. She was still in lothcat form, sitting between Nara’s paws. She was gazing up at Ezra, and he could sense her reaching out to him. Ezra didn’t reject her outright, but he didn’t reach back either. He… he didn’t know _how_. This bond they shared, the invisible rope that kept them tied together had never made any sense. When he was young, he had thought it was just a _thing_ you had with your parents. If you ever wandered too far, it would hurt. But at some point, Ezra realized that it wasn’t just his parents. There were times where he could be snuggled up right by their sides, and he would still just _ache_. 

The only time in his entire life he didn’t feel that ache were those hours - _days?_ \- after his parents were arrested. That brief stretch of time before they were handed over to the Inquisitors and their training began.

“I-I’m used to it,” Ezra eventually mumbled. Which was the truth. And frankly, it should be the truth for _her_ as well. 

Except it wasn’t. It's never been, not since they realized that she wasn’t just a _voice_. She was a separate being that he could touch and hold. Despite their training, they both still yearned and _craved_ for that touch again. Even if the notion was still foreign and fundamentally _wrong_ in a way Ezra couldn’t articulate. 

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Nara said. “No one is going to hurt you for being together.”

Ezra just shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to _think_ about it.

“You are two parts of a whole. You _belong_ together.”

“Well it seems to work well enough for you and Kanan,” Ezra snapped back, but he almost immediately regretted it. Kanan wasn't here to intervene if she wanted to discipline him for his insolence.

There was a beat of silence, Ezra’s body tense as he waited for her reaction. When she spoke up again, her tone was more subdued. Almost sad. “Kanan and I are different. We… are no longer connected in the way you are with your daiima.”

Ezra frowned. What did that even mean?

Nara gave Ezra’s Asset a small lick between her ears. “Daiima and their jemma are one being, connected through a Force tether. The tether between Kanan and I, however… was severed.”

Ezra felt the blood drain from his face. 

_Inhumane screams were making his ears ring. His body was pressed up against one side of his box, trying anything to relieve the horrible pressure in his chest. The screaming wasn't his own. There were no words, just pain and terror crescendoing in the Force, consuming every bit of Ezra’s awareness… until it crested, and there was a world shattering_ **_crack_** _._

_And just like that, the light of two beings were snuffed out._

“H… How…?” Ezra choked out in disbelief. It was quite literally unbelievable. He had seen it himself, it almost _happened_ to him. The day the troopers came… Ezra gripped at his chest, as if that might protect his connection with his Asset. “H-How are you _alive?_ ”

Nara gave what sounded like a chuckle. “I often wonder the same thing. There was a time where we thought we _were_ dead.” She drew in a deep breath. “But we weren’t. We _aren’t_.” She gazed at Ezra again with those piercing eyes. “Things change. And they can always get better.” Her gaze lowered to where Ezra was still gripping at his chest. “You don’t have to keep torturing yourself like this. I know the Inquisitors forced you two apart, punished you if you showed any affection for one another…”

He quickly snapped his hands down, clenching his fists at his sides as he felt them burn. 

[ _I… I’m sorry, Ezra…_ ]

Ezra practically jumped out of his skin, looking down at her. She was also looking downward at her own paws, her ears pulled back against her head. The quiet churn of emotions he could sense from her matched his own, reverberating and slowly pulling the opposing ends of their bond together. Ezra’s breathing shuddered as he instinctively scooted away. 

[ _I-I’m sorry I couldn’t do better… that I let you get hurt_ **_so much_** _…_ ] She shuffled nervously, but then Nara chuffed and gave her a small encouraging nudge with her nose. Her hesitance began to die away as her confidence began to rise. [ _Nothing makes sense, but N-Nara and Kanan are trying to help us. You can sense it, I_ **_know_ ** _you can…!_ ]

Their bond was twisting and intertwining more tightly, the barrier Ezra had forced up between them beginning to crumble. 

“No,” Ezra whispered. “No, _please_ shut up.” He shook his head insistently. She was just a tool, his Force-given Asset. Something to use. That’s all she was good for. She _had_ to be. Otherwise his collar… his final trial… 

[ _I don’t blame you!_ ] she said quickly. [ _I understand, they made you so lost and… Ezra, please, I just want you to come back._ ]

“Come back to _what?!_ ” Ezra exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “What the hell were we before?!” Wait, what was he doing? He couldn’t be talking, _conversing_ with her like this. She was beneath him, not a being worthy of anything if she did not bend to his will.

[ _I don’t know but… but I don’t want you to hurt anymore! Not because of me!_ ]

“This isn’t _your_ fault!” Ezra snapped back. “ _I’m_ the one who pulled away from you, _I’m_ the one who _beat_ you until we almost _passed out_ , _I’m_ the one who was never _kriffing strong enough!”_

She didn’t respond to that. All Ezra could hear was the sound of his own panting as he stared at her, met her in the eye for the first time in years. His heart leapt to his throat. It was like looking in a mirror, but the expressions and emotions were just slightly off. A different form of himself.

She took a step forward. [ _Ezra…_ ]

Ezra quickly backed up. “No, _stay_ away from me! I can’t do this. I can’t touch you, I can’t let you _in_ …” He hit the side of his head for emphasis. “I just _can’t.”_

There was a brief moment of silence before she suddenly swelled. Ezra took a stumbling step back, his back hitting the wall as his Asset took the form of a lothwolf like Nara. Her fur was a deep grey with streaks of brown, not unlike her fur pattern as a lothcat. 

Ezra swallowed, his body shaking violently as he shrank back against the wall. He had no idea what she was doing. All he knew is that she was slowly closing the distance between them. It was only when her head was inches away from him that she hesitated. She was close enough that Ezra could feel the warmth radiating off her body. 

Then she closed her eyes and pressed her muzzle up against Ezra’s chest. 

A strangled noise disgorged from Ezra’s throat, something in his mind shattering at the contact. Painful relief expanded through his body like large fangs finally being pulled out of his flesh. He couldn’t swallow back a low keen as he raised his shaking hands to cradle her jaw. The warm and soft fur was insignificant compared to the ring that was practically _singing_ in his mind. Ezra sobbed. He hasn’t felt this in so long… the time had been so brief he had thought maybe he had imagined it. But feeling it now… it was so _right_. 

She let out a low rumble, pressing her head even harder against his chest as they both trembled. The pressure was almost crushing but Ezra didn’t care. He just held her tightly, her fur soaking up his silent crying. 

[ _I’m sorry!_ ] Ezra thought to her frantically. [ _I’m so sorry for everything…!_ ]

She just responded by nuzzling her head up against him, forgiveness flooding their bond. It was freely given, and it made Ezra feel just that much _worse_. His hands were scrambling along her muzzle, gripping desperately at her fur. 

He didn’t think he’d ever be able to let go ever again.


	12. Compromises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Compromises have to be made in order to finish what needed to get done

Sabine slowly walked around Kaadak's small establishment. It was filled from floor to ceiling with various tech and tools. There seemed to be some method of organization, but Sabine couldn’t figure it out with only a couple minutes of perusing the vast collection. 

“This is no ordinary slave collar…”

Sabine turned back to where Nova Kaadak was examining Chopper’s scans. She was a Theelin woman, with pale blue - almost white - skin and periwinkle hair. Sabine hasn’t known too many Theelins in her time, but she would guess the locksmith to be the human equivalent of middle aged, definitely older than Kanan and Hera. 

“Yeah, we know,” Kanan said impatiently. “That's why we’re here.” He had his arms wrapped around his chest, one hand tightly grasping a bag of clothes they had bought earlier. The fingers on his other hand were tapping his arm frenetically, and his shoulders were hunched up as he glowered at the woman with one of his harsher glares. Kanan was definitely wound up more tightly than usual. 

But Kaadak wasn't cowed by his demeanor. That wasn't terribly surprising. One couldn’t survive in a place like Nar Shaddaa without having a thick skin. Instead she just seemed confused, still focused on the holo. “What the hell kind of Imperial prisoner do you have here? Did they commit high treason?”

“No questions,” Kanan growled. Actually _growled_. “That’s the deal.”

Kaadak raised her hands up defensively. “Yeah yeah, but I gotta say, this kinda tech is bound to pique some curiosity…” She glanced up at them. “You know this isn’t going to be cheap, right?”

“We’re aware,” Sabine said, stepping forward. Kanan was so tense, she was worried he would snap himself in half at any moment. “And we’re prepared to pay. Just name your price.”

Kaadak shook her head. “No price. Not yet. I need to see the collar first. This scan isn’t near good enough for me to make a decent appraisal.”

“Any estimates?” Sabine asked. “That way we can at least begin to pull together the necessary creds.”

Kaadak leaned back with a hum. “From what I’m seeing here and from what you’ve described? Minimum three thousand.”

“Three _thousand?_ ” Sabine echoed. 

“Possibly five,” Kaadak said bluntly. “Look, we’re in Hutt space so I’m not terribly worried about the tracker. But it’s still an incredibly complicated piece of Imperial tech, no doubt designed for their more dangerous prisoners. There is _risk_ involved, not just for the prisoner, but for myself as well. I want the three thousand upfront. Depending on the complexity and any tools that that collar might fry, I might require a couple more thousand before I complete the job. Deal?”

“You can’t possibly expect us…!”

“Deal,” Kanan cut in. 

“What?” Sabine spun around to him. “Kanan!”

“We don’t have much choice, Sabine,” he said curtly. “We’ve got the creds…”

 _Barely_ , Sabine wanted to qualify, but she knew better than to let Kaadak know that.

“As long as there're no questions, and she can get the job done? We got a deal.” Kanan said flatly. 

Kaadak gave a half smirk. “I’ll be ready in two hours,” she said. “I’m eager to see this fascinating little device in person.”

“Looking forward to it.” Kanan gave a small sarcastic salute before tossing the bag of clothes over his shoulder and ducking out of the stall, Sabine following close behind. 

“We could have at least _tried_ to bargain,” Sabine said, trotting after him. He was walking faster than usual, and with his freakishly long legs, it was difficult to keep pace with him through the thick crowds. “You know she probably highballed us. She can tell we’re desperate.”

“I’m aware, Sabine,” Kanan said, not slowing his pace. His nervous tic was in full gear, his hand shaking and hitting his leg in rapid succession. “But Kaadak isn’t wrong. This kind of tech is unprecedented. And the sooner we can get that infernal contraption off of Ezra, the better.”

Sabine was certainly in agreement with him there. Still, it rubbed her wrong that this was going to cost them so much. It’s not like they had that much in reserves, and most of it was for keeping the _Ghost_ in repair. “And what exactly are we supposed to do after that? We only have enough fuel and supplies for a week, _maybe_.”

“We’ll figure it out.” 

Kanan suddenly stopped, and Sabine ran into his back. “Ow, Kanan…!”

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding particularly apologetic. He dropped the bag of clothes from his shoulder and turned to place a hand on Sabine’s arm. “Sabine, I know this week has been a _lot_. For all of us.”

Sabine pulled herself from Kanan’s grip. “I don’t need your patronizing. I’m just trying to be realistic.”

“I’m not - ” Kanan huffed. “I’m not trying to patronize you. Sabine, this has been a hard week for _all_ of us. And I know you. You’re still the same capable and fiercely independent young woman you were when we found you on Garel two years ago. Stubborn and willful…”

“What exactly is your point?” Sabine asked tiredly.

“You don’t need to be the adult here,” he said earnestly. “I’m not making these decisions lightly.”

“I never said you were.” Although even as she said it, she was a little skeptical of where Kanan’s head was right now. While Sabine had full confidence that he wasn’t taking any of this _lightly_ , she was uncertain how clear his _judgement_ was. Everything with this Ezra kid was obviously hitting Kanan and Nara close to home. He was trying to hide it, but it has rattled _him_ far more than any of this had rattled _her_. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Kanan said, turning away from her. “We always do.”

They began walking again, Kanan’s pace a little less frantic than it had been before. His hand was calmer now, although it was still tapping his thigh in an even tempo. She supposed that was as good a sign as any. 

When they got back to the Ghost, Kanan handed Sabine the bag. “Can you give these to Ezra and tell him to get changed? Nara knows you’re coming. I’m going to go over everything with Hera.”

Sabine frowned. “Don’t you think _you_ should be the one doing this? I can talk to Hera…”

“I need to go over some particulars that don’t concern you.”

“Still…” Sabine glanced at the cargo door. “Kanan, the last time I went in there, I _electrocuted_ him.”

“It was an accident, he knows that.”

Sabine gave a skeptical laugh. “ _Does_ he?”

“I know you have no way of knowing this, but a lot has changed for Ezra in the last couple days. Which part of the reason you should do this. You… both need to get used to each other.”

“‘Get used to each other’? What do you mean by that?”

“I _mean_ , that Ezra and his daiima are…” Kanan hesitated, looking for his words.

Sabine sighed, starting to see what Kanan was getting at. “Look, I know we’re not going to just drop them off at some random moon after this. And that means they’re going to be staying on the _Ghost_ for a while.”

“Maybe,” Kanan qualified. “Once we get Ezra’s collar off, Nara and I may be taking them somewhere safe.”

“Taking them somewhere… You mean _leaving_ the _Ghost?!_ ” 

“Nothing is settled yet,” Kanan assured. “Bottom line… you’re right. They’re here to stay for a bit. This is a first step for you two to get acquainted with each other.”

Sabine rolled her eyes. It’s not so much that he was wrong or didn’t have a good point as much as this seemed like a stupid ‘first step’. But she also suspected he was just trying to give her a distraction while he spoke with Hera. “Whatever,” she murmured, taking the bag. Kanan and Hera _were_ in charge. As much as she hated being kept in the dark, she did - begrudgingly - accept that there had to be boundaries. 

Kanan gave a small smile, patting her shoulder before climbing the ladder to the cockpit. 

With a small sigh, Sabine made her way to the cargo bay. This was bound to be interesting. She had to admit, she was curious about these so-called changes. Kanan seemed to think that Ezra had changed for the better, although how _much_ better remained to be seen. 

Standing in front of the cargo bay door, Sabine took a moment to collect herself. She wasn’t fearful for her life or anything like that - she knew Nara would protect her - but Ezra and his daiima were still an unknown variable to her. Kanan and Nara were really the only ones who have spent any time with them.

Which, she supposed, emphasized Kanan’s point.

Sabine knocked on the door, and Nara almost immediately responded. “Come in.”

She stepped inside and quickly surveyed the state of the cargo bay. While the cot she had made was now in the far corner, Ezra was curled up on the estrade instead. He had his arms wrapped around his lothcat-formed daiima, who was curled up in his lap. Ezra’s face was a red and slightly swollen, his eyes downcast. Obviously he had been crying. Nara was sitting just a few meters from them as she turned her head towards Sabine “You have the clothes?”

Sabine nodded, walking over and putting the bag on the ground between Nara and the estrade. “Yeah, we got a few different things. Hopefully something fits. They're all plain and completely _non-_ Imperial.” She looked over Ezra’s outfit. He was no longer sporting his pauldrons, so his uniform wasn’t immediately identifiable as being issued by the Empire, but it was too clean and sleek. He would still stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this. “Your boots are fine, but you’ll have to take everything else off.”

Ezra visibly swallowed as he stared down at the bag, making no move to get up. He curled a little tighter on himself, squeezing his daiima to his chest. 

“Well, I guess there’s no _huge_ rush…” Sabine said in response to that. “Kaadak said it’d be a couple hours, and it’s not exactly a long walk.” 

Ezra glanced up at her, and Sabine’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes were a brilliant dark _blue_ … but that was impossible. His eyes were a bright yellow. Sabine had literally stood inches from his face before. There was no way she had mis-seen them. They must have _changed_. How was that possible? Was this some sort of weird Inquisitor thing?

The kid looked down again, turning away from them slightly. A bit perturbed, Sabine stepped a little closer to Nara, a bit at a loss for what to do now. The kid had shut down, and who knew how long Kanan and Hera would be talking.

“You’re not missing anything,” Nara said quietly to her. 

“Hmm?” Sabine questioned.

“Kanan and Hera. They’re not talking about anything you’d have interest in.”

“You know I don’t like being kept in the dark,” Sabine huffed, covering up the slight unease Nara’s comment stirred. While she knew Nara and Kanan were connected, it was still unnerving at times. It felt like she was talking to the same person, yet in two completely different entities. It was hard for her to wrap her head around.

“They’re not keeping you in the dark,” Nara insisted. “Kanan just has some things to talk out with Hera in private.”

“And what about you?” Sabine asked. “He doesn’t seem to be making much effort to keep you out of the loop.”

There was a low rumble in Nara’s chest, her equivalent of a thoughtful hum. “I don’t know if Kanan could even if he tried. Although…” 

Nara returned her attention to estrade, which had Sabine also looking back at Ezra and the lothcat. It occurred to her that she had no idea what the daiima was even called. In fact, she was fairly certain she had never even heard the daiima _speak_. Sabine glanced back and forth between the lothcat and the giant wolf beside her. They might be the same sort of weird Force manifestation, but the way they acted with others and their respective Force wielder was so different from one another. The only commonality she could see was the way Ezra was holding his daiima. It was similar to how Nara would curl up around Kanan.

“You should get something to eat,” Nara suggested to Sabine. “I’ll make sure Ezra does the same. You need to keep your strength up.”

“For what?” Sabine chuckled. “The total six klick walk round trip from Kaadak’s?”

“Just… stay on your toes,” Nara said with the same dry tone Kanan would use. She gave a huff. “And make sure to watch Kanan’s back.”

Sabine gave an amused huff back. “You know I always do.” She gave Ezra one last glance before she turned to leave. Nara was right. She could use a bite. “We’ll be leaving in about an hour. I’m sure Kanan’ll come back down before then.”

Nara gave a single nod. “Thank you, Sabine.”

* * *

Ezra's breakthrough with his daiima was unquestionably a step in the right direction. Evidently, Kanan just needed to remove himself from the situation for a bit for it to occur.

Yet, it didn’t do much to put Kanan at ease. Not with the Force still niggling at the side of his head in warning. It was driving him nuts, and he had no idea what to do about it.

“Is there something else?” Hera asked quietly.

Kanan glanced back over at her. “No,” he said tiredly. “Once she gets the collar off of him, we just need to get the hell outta dodge.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Hera’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So what aren’t you telling me?”

Kanan sighed, wringing his hands together as he tried to keep his hand from ticcing. “It’s nothing you have to worry about.”

Hera just hummed. “Why don’t you let me decide that?”

“Hera…”

“Kanan, this is _my_ ship and this involves _my_ crew. So spill.”

“It’s nothing like that!” Kanan insisted. “It’s just a _feeling!_ ”

“What kind of feeling?”

Kanan closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, reigning his emotions back under control. The last thing he wanted to do right now is lash out. He couldn’t help but growl as he exhaled, but he felt in control. “I _think_ … something is going to happen. Something bad.”

“And you think this because of the Force?”

Kanan nodded, leaning back in his seat. “It’s frankly ridiculous. Of _course_ something bad is going to happen. I have a kriffed up child Inquisitor in my care, we’re at a black port, about to employ a sketchy if reputable locksmith…”

“This is hardly our first black port, and we've worked with people who were _much_ more sketchy than Kaadak,” Hera pointed out. 

“But _this_ is different,” Kanan emphasized. “Everything with Ezra is.”

Hera let out a small sigh, looking out the viewport. “What exactly are you planning?” she asked quietly.

Kanan bit his lip. “I don’t see what choice I have…” Hera _had_ to understand, this was all he could do. “We can’t just keep Ezra and his daiima cooped up in the cargo bay. Even when we get that collar off, they will still be hunted. We’ll still be putting the _Ghost_ in danger.”

“We’re _always_ in danger.”

“Not like this,” Kanan said, giving her a pointed look. “We need to go into hiding. _Deep_ hiding. It’s the only way I know how to help them.”

“You said Ezra and his daiima have been making progress,” Hera said, her voice softening slightly. “You don’t have to leave us behind. It’s easy for the _Ghost_ to go into hiding.”

That was true, but Kanan knew Hera better than that. “I don’t know how long we’d have to hide. I can’t see… I can’t see Sabine tolerating being locked down for any longer than a couple weeks.”

Hera let out a soft sigh, her hands tightening on the steering spoke. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I won’t be alone. I’ll have Nara.”

The glare Hera gave him confirmed that she saw straight through that flimsy argument. “I’m not just talking about us,” she said. “Ezra isn’t the first person to defect from the Empire. It’s possible that we could get some help.”

“From Fulcrum?” Kanan growled and shook his head. “The last thing Ezra needs is to be exposed to even _more_ strangers.”

“It doesn’t have to be direct help. They have intel about the Inquisitorious that could help us.”

Kanan frowned at her. “How much have you told them about Ezra?”

“That… we have a child Inquisitor in our custody.”

“And how much do they know about _me_ exactly?”

“The same they’ve always known. That I met you on Gorse, and that you are one hell of a gunslinger. I’ve never mentioned Nara or anything else.”

Kanan hummed. “I’m surprised Fulcrum hasn’t demanded we bring Ezra to them…”

“Well, certainly not with that beacon.”

“And once we get the collar off?” Kanan said, his heart starting to race. 

Hera pressed her lips together. “Fulcrum… does want to make direct contact. They’ve been gathering intel on the Inquisitorious for years. From what they told me, Ezra is the first Inquisitor ever to escape with some semblance of their sense of self.”

“I am _not_ about to let Ezra and his daiima get swept up by Fulcrum’s network to be poked, prodded, and interrogated.”

“That’s not what would happen, and frankly, I’m a little offended you think I would _let_ that happen…”

“No, I know that, I just…” Kanan growled, roughly running his fingers over his hair. “Hera, you don’t understand. The more Ezra is out there, the more exposed he is, the greater danger _he_ is in!”

“He’s already in danger! And if Fulcrum can help him…”

“You don’t know that! We don’t even know who Fulcrum really is! Who knows what kind of connections their network has, who might _zero in_ on Ezra…!”

“Zero in on Ezra… or on _you?_ ”

His stomach clenched and squirmed painfully. Kanan quickly looked away, digging his fingers into his thigh.

“Kanan,” Hera said softly. “There’s no way Fulcrum is connected with - ”

“ _Please_ don’t…” Kanan murmured. A shiver ran along his shoulders as he grit his teeth together. He could feel Nara’s hackles rising instinctively, as if they were his own. 

Hera gazed at him silently for a moment. “We’ll play it by ear,” she whispered. “Ezra trusts you more than anyone else right now. If you think taking Ezra to Fulcrum is too risky, I’ll follow your lead.”

Kanan let out a shuddered sigh as he relaxed slightly, the squirming in his belly not quite as painful. “Let’s just… finish this and get off of Nar Shaddaa.”

Hera nodded. “Chop and I will keep the engine warm in case anything goes awry.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t come to that,” Kanan said as he stood. He had his doubts but maybe, just maybe, luck would be on their side for once.

[ _Ezra still hasn’t gotten changed…_ ] Nara said. [ _He and the Little One are still just curled together on the estrade._ ]

[ _Well, I’ll be down in a sec._ ] 

Kanan took deep breaths as he headed down to the cargo bay, shaking his hand out. He really needed to get a grip. If the Force was trying to warn him about something, panicking certainly wasn’t going to help. He needed to act rationally and calmly. Worse comes to absolutely worse, he _did_ have his saber with him. Although the thought of having to use it made him ill. And the way it hung heavily on his belt was only contributing to his imbalance. 

But for the sake of Ezra and his daiima… he needed to find his center.

Kanan entered the cargo bay to find them just as Nara had described. Ezra did sit up slightly when Kanan stepped in. The bag of clothes was sitting on the ground near the estrade, obviously untouched. “We’ll need to leave soon,” Kanan said. “You should get changed.”

Ezra let out a shaky sigh. “R-Right…” He slowly scooted over to the edge of the estrade, his daiima crawling up and shifting into a small bird to settle on his shoulder. 

Kanan knelt by the bag and pulled out a couple pairs of pants of different sizes and a couple of shirts that were _definitely_ going to be oversized but would work nonetheless. Beyond the collar, Ezra would look like any other regular kid. “Hopefully these fit you,” Kanan said as he handed Ezra the clothes. “If the pants are too big, I have a belt you can use.

Ezra just nodded, staring at the clothes in his lap. He ran his gloved hands slowly over the fabric, as if he had no idea what to do with them. His daiima had tucked herself up right next to his neck, rubbing her head against his chin.

“You can use the refresher,” Kanan stated, trying to kick start them into getting up. 

With a small flinch, Ezra quickly nodded. “Okay,” he murmured, getting up and trotting over to the refresher.

When the door closed behind them, Kanan went over and leaned against Nara, wrapping his arms around her neck. He was already exhausted, and they haven’t even done the hard part yet. 

[ _At least Ezra has begun to let his daiima back in…_ ] Nara pointed out.

[ _And I’m glad_ ] Kanan replied. [ _But there’s still just so much ahead of us._ ]

[ _One thing at a time. There’s no reason not to take a moment and celebrate our victories. Given what we know of Ezra’s childhood… this is a big step for them._ ]

That was true. And it seemed remarkable that it would happen so quickly given the circumstances. 

Then again, perhaps not. A jemma and daiima were _meant_ to be together. Despite their childhood trauma - Ezra’s parents forcibly separating them, the Inquisitorious beating into them that daiima were nothing more than weapons - the need for one another might very well have intensified rather than waned. Now that they were completely _free_ to be with one another, it was no wonder that they found each other again so quickly.

The door to the refresher opened, and Ezra stepped out with his shoulders hunched and his gaze fixed on the ground. With the slightly too long pants and the oversized shirt… the boy looked smaller than ever. 

His daiima was still perched on Ezra’s shoulders as he walked over to the estrade and carefully placed his Inquisitor blacks down next to the pauldrons, the gorget and knee cops resting on top. Ezra took a moment to smooth out the cloth and straighten the plasteel pieces of armor before turning to face Kanan and Nara with his arms crossed tightly. His limbs were skinnier than Kanan had anticipated, with a myriad of scars marring his skin. Most were streaks of darkened flesh that Kanan recognized as lightsaber burns, but there was also a very distinctive pattern of dotted scars that looked to have come from a large sharp-toothed animal. And with the kid’s bare hands out in the open, Kanan could see the results of the Inquisitors' punishment.

 _“No,_ **_please_** _! I won’t touch her again, I promise!_ **_I promise_** _!”_

The center of Kanan’s chest burned, the edges of his vision going slightly unfocused. The _savagery_ of what the Inquisitors had done to Ezra… Had these sorts of tortures really been so necessary?

But of course, it wasn’t just about making Ezra and his daiima into good soldiers for the Empire. It was about the pain, about the _fear_. It was about taking that pain and fear and twisting it into rage, the perfect fuel for the Dark Side. 

His kyber crystal burned at the base of his back. 

“A-Are you okay?”

The hesitant question brought Kanan back to the present, his gaze refocusing on the boy. There was a jolt in his chest when he met Ezra’s gaze. Great big blue eyes were staring up at him with uncertainty. While Kanan could sense Ezra’s fear, he couldn’t help but feel a deluge of relief at the sight. The sickly yellow, the infection from the Dark Side, had drained out of Ezra’s eyes. Had the boy really already begun to heal?

Ezra seemed more uncertain the longer the silence stretched. “What’s wrong…?”

Kanan shook his head, unable to suppress a warm chuckle. “Nothing, kiddo.” He reached over and wrapped an arm around Ezra, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. “Let’s get moving.”

Ezra still seemed confused, but the tension in his shoulders eased as they walked out of the cargo bay. His daiima was back in her lothcat form and being held tightly in Ezra’s arms. 

Sabine was waiting in the loading dock near the ramp, her hand on her hip. “About time,” she said. Her eyes scanned over Ezra with a smirk. “Nice outfit.”

“Th… thanks?” Ezra replied, cocking his head slightly to the side. 

Then Sabine’s eyes settled on Ezra’s arms. “Yeah, you’re gonna want to leave her behind.”

Ezra’s arms tightened around his daiima, and he took a small step back. “W-What?” he squeaked with an edge of panic.

“Sabine, he can’t,” Kanan stated, his hand tightening on Ezra’s shoulder.

“Pets are illegal in the Empire,” Sabine said, as if she was pointing out the obvious. “The only people around these parts with them are powerful crime lords flaunting their power. Nara can’t come with us, so neither can…” Sabine looked back over at Ezra’s daiima. “I’m sorry, what are you called?”

“M… my conscience…?” Ezra murmured, barely audible.

But that was when Kanan remembered that he and Nara were the only Force sensitive Sabine has ever encountered before. “They literally _can’t_ be apart,” Kanan said. “What Nara and I can do isn’t normal.”

Sabine raised a skeptical eyebrow at Kanan. “What are you talking about?”

Kanan sighed, wishing that he could just avoid this entire topic altogether. “For basically _all_ Force users… they can’t be separated from their daiima. No more than a few meters. Attempts to do so can literally kill them.”

She blinked _hard_ at him, her mouth gaped open slightly. “So… what about you and Nara?”

Kanan growled, viciously shoving down the echoes of that horrible day. “We’re different.” Sabine looked like she was about to argue but Kanan harshly cut her off. “It’s _not_ important. But Ezra’s daiima…” They were definitely going to have to remedy the name situation, but now wasn’t the time. “... needs to stay with him.”

It was obvious that Sabine wanted to argue, to push and question, but they didn't have the time for it right now. Kanan knelt in front of Ezra and addressed his daiima. “You’re going to have to stay out of sight,” Kanan stated quietly. “You can hide in Ezra’s shirt. It’s baggy enough it should obscure your form, but try not to move too much.”

She gave a small nod before shifting into a small colorful beetle, diving into the collar of the oversized shirt. Ezra crossed his arms again, and while Kanan could tell that he was nestling her through his shirt, it was baggy enough that it wouldn’t be obvious to any casual observers.

Sabine sighed and shook her head. “Well, if we really don’t have any other option…” She turned and pounded her fist on the controls, the ramp lowering. “Let’s get moving.”


	13. Old Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Kaadak works to remove Ezra's collar, old allegiances are revealed

Ezra found it shockingly easy to stay composed as they walked through the busy crowds. Most ignored them, the few who glanced their way were more focused on Sabine than Ezra or Kanan. Her colorful armor wasn't exactly discreet. 

But even though all of his Imperial effects have been stripped away, his training was still deeply embedded. He walked with confidence and a neutral expression, just like he would when walking through the Imperial complex. The persona of an Inquisitorial candidate slipped over him like a second skin. If need be, he was relatively confident that he could even scowl at any stranger who might give him snark. Of course, his attempts at intimidation were always aided when his Asset… _daiima_ … was snapping her sharp teeth at them.

In maintaining this sort of composure, Ezra had let his arms fall to his sides, his shoulders pulled back and his gaze pointed firmly on Sabine’s back. His Ass… daiima was clinging to him, her body flattened against his skin. He wasn’t sure exactly what had changed, but he was starting to feel a bit like a person again. After days of having his psyche ripped apart, leaving him teetering on the edge of falling into madness, he felt like bits of himself were starting to draw back together. He still didn’t know what exactly he _was_ , but now he felt he had a chance to stitch together some sort of coherent identity.

Every so often, particularly when the alleyways got particularly crowded, Kanan would clasp a hand on Ezra’s shoulder and pull him close. It was a strange gesture, one that _should_ have sent shivers down his spine. His master putting her hands on him was never a good thing. It was a sign coming discipline or reward. And Ezra didn’t know which was worse.

But Kanan wasn’t like her. His hands and touch and presence was _warm_ , calming. It could quell Ezra’s panic, wrap around him and keep him from completely unraveling. 

Of course, it has only been a few days. Who knew how things could change? What group or new master he’d be pushed off onto… 

Ezra swallowed, feeling his throat press against the collar. He wanted it off. He really did. But it had still meant so much when he got it. It had been one of the happiest moments of his life. He could never have anticipated that it would have led him to all of _this_. Right now, it was impossible to imagine what the galaxy had in store for him once it was removed. 

His daiima shifted slightly against his skin, and Ezra felt the corner of his mouth twitch. At least he still had her. 

“We’re here,” Sabine said, ducking into a small opening between the densely laid out stalls. Ezra was close behind her, Kanan bringing up the rear. 

He blinked a couple times, getting his eyes to adjust. It was a small space, with thousands of electronics and tools scattered around in buckets and on the walls. Durasteel shelving separated the establishment into sections. Ezra followed Sabine as she walked along one of these shelves before rounding the end of it. 

A feminine looking alien whose species Ezra didn’t recognize was sitting at a workbench, a bright light shining down at whatever she was working on. Upon hearing them enter, she looked up and pulled her goggles up onto her forehead just below her horns. Her eyes immediately landed on Ezra and she gave a small frown. “He’s a kid,” she stated.

“And?” Kanan said sharply. “Is that a problem?”

“No problem,” the alien - Nova Kaadak, Ezra remembered - said easily. “But like I said before. Bound to pique anyone’s curiosity.” Kaadak put down her tool and stood from the bench. “You have my money?”

Movement caught the corner of Ezra’s eye, and he turned to see Kanan pull out a credit chip before tossing it to her. “Three thousand, as promised.”

Ezra's eyes bulged at that. Three thousand _Imperial credits?_ How did dissidents like this lot have so much money just laying around?

And… they were spending it on _him?_

Kaadak put the chip into a scanner, looking it over with a hum. Then her eyes flickered up at Ezra. Or more specifically, Ezra’s neck. “Let’s take a closer look at what we have here.” She cleared off her work bench before patting the top of it. “Hop up here, kid.”

Ezra couldn’t help but bristle, not appreciating the order or the moniker. His fists were clenched at his sides, but he resisted the urge to take a step back. She was not his master. She did not hold any authority over him. If he really wanted to, he could reach out wrap the Force around her neck, and - 

The hand was back on his shoulder, accompanied by the warm calming buzz in the back of his head. 

“Hey,” Kanan murmured. “She just needs to get a closer look at the collar to get it off you.” His voice was low and even. “She won’t hurt you,” he said, a bit louder. Ezra glanced up and saw that Kanan was giving the woman a slight glare.

Kaadak put her hands up innocently. “No tricks or funny business. But if you want that collar off, you know my hands are going to be at your neck, right?”

The tone made Ezra grind his teeth together. He did _not_ like this person.

[ _But she can get that collar off…_ ]

Ezra gave a small huff, raising a hand to place it over her small body and press gently. She was right. Ezra was just being willful. Defiant. Disobedient. So he swallowed down his indignation and marched over to the bench, jumping up onto it and clenching his hands to his thighs. 

Kaadak rolled her eyes and grabbed another tool, similar to the one Sabine used during her attempt to deactivate his collar. His jaw was clenched as he tilted his head back like he had for Sabine. Kanan stood beside them, his eyes narrowed as he kept a close eye on Kaadak. Sabine meanwhile was standing behind the alien, watching as she worked.

Ezra bit the inside of his lip. It was taking extreme effort to keep his breathing even. He hated this. He was cornered. Surrounded and observed like a merely fascinating test subject. 

But Kanan’s hand was still on his shoulder, squeezing it reflexively. As insane as it was, it felt like a lifeline. A way out. If Kaadak or Sabine wanted to lash out at him… Kanan would pull him away, out of this trap, out of harm’s way. Of course he had no way of actually _knowing_ that, and it was frankly absurd that he _felt_ it was true. 

The collar vibrated slightly, making Ezra tense, but he almost immediately realized that this was a different sensation. Kaadak was pulling out the bioscanner, just like Sabine had. Letting out a small sigh, Kaadak put her tool down and grabbed a different one. This one had a long thin tube that she slowly slipped inside. There were a couple beeps, and a hologram sprang up in the space beside his head.

“Whoa…” Sabine said. The holo was slowly building up, like a slowly rendering map. “You’re taking a scan from the _inside_.”

“Can’t very well do it from the outside…” Kaadak said, her voice strained as she concentrated. “Not with that magnetic shielding, and _wow_ …” she breathed, her eyes flickering rapidly over the holo. Then she raised her head to look Ezra in the eye. “You must be quite the hellion.”

“Hey,” Kanan said curtly. “No questions.”

“It wasn’t a question,” she pointed out, her attention returning to the holo. “But the Empire isn’t putting this kind of gear on its upright citizens. Hell…” She reached over and slowly rotated the holo to look at the different components. “It’s not putting this on average criminals either,” she murmured. 

“Just focus on the collar,” Kanan scowled. “Once it’s deactivated and off the kid, you can marvel over it all you want.”

“Yeah, yeah…” A couple more beeps, and Kaadak pulled out the probe and placed it on the table to take a closer look at the holo. “You can relax, kid,” she said.

“Don’t call me kid,” Ezra snapped.

Kaadak raised an eyebrow. “Oh look, he speaks…”

Ezra looked away, shifting slightly so he was closer to Kanan, his body heat keeping Ezra grounded. Another shoulder squeeze kept him calm. If not for Kanan, he was sure he would have shoved this woman away from him by now.

Maybe. Except this person was the only one who could get this collar off of him and prevent the Inquisitors - his _master_ \- from finding him.

Behind Kaadak, Sabine took her helmet off and leaned in, her mouth slightly open and her brow knitted together slightly. “What is _that?_ ” 

“It’s a special type of dual sleeve,” Kaadak said. “Two wires are threaded in together and separated by an insulating mesh. That way when compressed…”

“... the two wires make contact.” Sabine stepped away with an angry scowl. “No wonder the _haran’la_ collar discharged! They had the receiver and the power line in that sleeve!”

Ezra didn’t know what they were talking about, but Sabine’s anger was prickling against his mind and putting him even more on edge. His stomach tied itself into a painful knot as he sat there frozen, his mind racing for a way to placate her. 

[ _I-I don’t think she’s mad at_ **_us_**.]

That didn’t matter. Angry people lashed out, whether it be at the source of their rage or whatever happened to be closest. And more often than not, that happened to be one of them.

“Could you take it outside, Mando?” the horned alien said, her calm voice cutting through the haze. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

Sabine shut up at that. Although her anger was still simmering, she simply crossed her arms and fixed her gaze back at the holo. Ezra let out a shaky sigh, suddenly aware that he had been holding his breath.

A minute later, Kaadak leaned back in her seat with a hum. “While deactivating this collar is simple in principle, it’s going to require an extremely delicate hand to do it without harming the boy.”

Kanan’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you can’t do it?”

“Oh no, I can do it. But there’s always a degree of risk in these things, so I’m telling you in the most non-threatening way possible that accidents happen.”

Sabine scowled. “What, do you want _another_ thousand credits?”

“Creds aren’t going to make my hands perfectly steady,” Kaadak said matter of factly. “No, I don’t need more credits. Like I said, this is actually relatively simple. But I don’t want you to come at me blasters blazing if something _does_ happen. Besides…” She took another look at the holo. “There’s not enough power in this thing to do any real long term harm.”

“That’s not acceptable,” Kanan growled. “We hired you because we heard you were the best…”

“The best you could _find_ ,” Kaadak corrected.

“It’s fine,” Ezra cut in.

Kaadak raised an eyebrow at him while Sabine looked at him incredulously. “Are you crazy? Do you hear what this _ge'hutuun_ is saying?”

Ezra half-expected Kanan to protest as well, but he remained silent. The grip on his shoulder was starting to get painful, but Ezra wasn’t about to shrug him off. “I’ll know to expect it,” Ezra said. “That’s more than I usually get.” If he was bracing for the pain, he knew he could take it. If this was what it took to get this collar off, then he would take it. He could sense his daiima’s hesitance, but he ignored it. It wasn’t her decision to make.

After a beat of silence, Kanan smacked the side of his thigh twice in quick succession before giving a curt nod. “Very well.”

Sabine’s jaw dropped. “Wha… _Kanan!_ ”

“We don’t really have much of a choice here,” Kanan said. “The kid says he’s fine with the risk. Let’s just get this over with.”

Ezra’s lips twitched as the knot in his stomach unwound itself a bit. He had no idea what he would have done if Kanan had insisted on fighting him.

With that, Kaadak got up and walked over to a cabinet. The drawer made a loud clattering sound as she pulled it open, the clattering continuing as she dug through it. Pulling out a thin implement, she closed the drawer with a clang before repeating the process again with a lower drawer. 

Once she found the tools she needed, she walked back to the work bench, this time not sitting down. "Lean your head back and stay as _still_ as possible or you're in for a nasty shock. Understood?"

Ezra nodded before doing as he was told. He had more than enough self-discipline for that.

Kaadak leaned in, and Ezra felt a slight pressure and movement on the collar as she began to work. He took slow and shallow breaths, willing his muscles to relax knowing that tensing them would just make them tremble.

Beneath his shirt, his daiima was digging her feelers into his skin, her nervous worry niggling into his mind through their bond.

[ _Cut it out!_ ] he hissed at her. [ _You're not making this easier..._ ]

He could still feel her quivering, but she stopped clawing on him and her worry seemed to retreat and fade from his mind. Satisfied, Ezra focused on keeping his body relaxed and calm.

Then there was suddenly a surge in the Force. It was a powerful emotion - _horrorfeardisbeliefrage_ \- and it bowled over Ezra, making him gasp for breath.

"What... is _that?_ " 

Kanan's voice was a whisper, but with his emotions still projecting loudly, the words sounded like a threat.

Kaadak pulled back slightly. "I'm sorry?"

Ezra was violently yanked off the bench. He only barely managed to gain his footing when Kanan’s grip vanished. By the time Ezra had steadied himself, Kanan had Kaadak pinned to the workbench, one hand at her throat and another on her right arm. 

"What is this?!" he demanded with a menacing hiss.

"Kanan!" Sabine exclaimed. "What are you doing?! I thought we were letting her do this?!"

Kaadak's eyes flickered to the arm Kanan had pinned, drawing Ezra's attention. The greasy sleeve of her shirt had ridden up to reveal a small circular brand on the inside of her wrist. Split into two, the bottom half was two concentric semi circles while the top half was a single arc that would have fit in the gap of the bottom half. He had never seen such a symbol before, but it obviously meant something to Kanan. Something _bad_.

"I can explain..." Kaadak said calmly, only a slight tremor in her voice betraying her fear.

"That's the mark of Crimson Dawn," Kanan snarled. "One of the most _vile_ criminal syndicates in the galaxy."

Both Ezra and Sabine took an instinctive step back at the venom with which Kanan spoke. Ezra's very bones seemed to quake as the Jedi's emotions continued to scream in the Force.

Sabine recovered at least somewhat, taking a step back towards them. "Wait, what's a crony for Crimson Dawn doing in Hutt Space?"

"I don't work for Crimson Dawn anymore," Kaadak said quickly. "I left."

"Crimson Dawn doesn't just let their people go," Kanan growled, his hand on her neck tightening ever so slightly.

"Why do you think I buried myself so deep into Hutt territory?" she spat, her voice raspy from her semi-constricted airway. 

"Why did you leave?" Kanan asked, his voice dangerously even.

Kaadak took in a wheezed breath. "Because I saw what they were willing to do... and wanted no part of it." She looked Kanan straight in the eye, seemingly searching. "Are they after you, too?"

Kanan's grip tightened, his teeth bared as he glowered down at her...

Then he seemed to freeze. Ezra could hear a tiny whisper in the Force, indistinct despite the desperate tone. A moment later, the feral snarl melted from Kanan's face, and he slowly let her go.

Kaadak coughed and cleared her throat, rubbing her neck as she slowly stood. She kept a wary eye on Kanan as she yanked her sleeve down over the mark. “I don’t want to attract Crimson Dawn’s attention anymore than you do,” she said, keeping her voice low and slow. “So how about you let me finish my work, and we can go our separate ways.”

Kanan’s expression was pinched. While his emotions weren’t as loud in the Force now, Ezra could feel them just as keenly, rumbling anxiously in his head. Ezra could also see that Kanan’s irises were twitching frenetically, like he was making a thousand calculations a second. 

“Just… get it done…” Kanan finally ground out.

Kaadak positioned herself so that Kanan and Ezra were both in front of her, but she patted the bench and Ezra climbed back on after a cautious glance to Kanan. Kanan wanted this to happen, despite his obvious reservations. Kanan took up the same position he had before, next to Ezra with a possessive hand on his shoulder. 

Ezra tried not to squirm under the bruising grip as he tilted his head back again. Kaadak picked up her tools, taking several deep breaths before getting back to work. Ezra could feel the slight tremors of her hand against his collar, and he braced himself for pain.

The minutes that followed were silent save for the bustling of the streets outside and tinkling of Kaadak’s tools. The tension in the small room was so thick that Ezra would bet even Sabine could feel it. It didn’t help that Kanan’s frenzied emotions were still grating against Ezra’s mind, no matter how much he tried to block them out. Whatever this Crimson Dawn symbol meant, it had obviously set Kanan off, and now the Jedi couldn’t get control of himself.

“Almost got it…” Kaadak murmured, twisting her arm at the elbow as she manipulated her tools. 

As if things weren’t overwhelming enough, the Force suddenly swelled in warning. Ezra stiffened, his fists clenching. Beside him, he felt Kanan twitch and stiffen as well. Then a low growl emitted from Kanan’s throat. “Get this kriffing thing off of him, already!”

“I’m working, I’m working…!” She insisted, her hands moving just a bit faster. “I just… need to thread this properly…” She shifted slightly, letting out a small exhale before Ezra heard a small snip.

Suddenly, the skin and muscles around Ezra’s neck relaxed, almost unnaturally so. His hands went up to rub the skin, trying to find the source of the absence. It was then he realized that the collar had been giving off a low intensity vibration that Ezra had simply grown accustomed to. Now that the power was off, it was obvious that his neck had been under tension this entire time. 

And now he just _ached_. 

Kaadak blew out a sigh of relief. “Alright, all I have to do now is pry this baby open, and your boy here is free.” 

Ezra trembled as his stomach squirmed. It was really happening. The collar was deactivated. The beacon was gone. It couldn’t hurt him anymore. 

So why was he even _more_ terrified than before?

Inserting another tool, Kaadak gave a small jerk of her arm, and the collar popped and loosened. “There you go…” She yanked it open before taking it off completely. 

Ezra swallowed as he rubbed his neck, feeling oddly exposed. His fingers rubbed against the indentation in his skin that had been left behind. He wondered what it even looked like after so many concentrated shocks.

There was a small hum of reassurance, and it took a moment for Ezra to recognize that it was coming from his daiima. She was rubbing her head against the skin of his belly.

“And that’s that,” Kaadak said, stepping away quickly from the three of them. She gave Kanan a pointed glare. “Now get out.”

Kanan didn’t need to be told twice as he pulled Ezra off the workbench with growl and pushed him towards the exit. When they got outside, Ezra had to blink several times for his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in lighting, but Kanan kept pulling him forward through the crowds. 

“Kanan?” Sabine trotted up beside them, her colorful helmet back on her head. “You wanna tell me what in Tarre’s name that was about?”

“Not now, Sabine,” Kanan scowled. 

“Then _when?_ You don’t seriously expect me to just forget what happened back there? You owe us an explanation!”

“ _Not_ in the middle of the streets of _Nar Shaddaa!_ ” Kanan hissed.

Ezra flinched as the vehement anger and annoyance stabbed into the back of his head. Even if it wasn’t specifically directed at him, that didn’t mean he was safe. Sabine was, after all, a part of Kanan’s crew. Ezra was just an empty nobody who would no doubt be the target of his master’s repressed rage the moment they were alone again. 

[ _No, he’s not like that, Nara wouldn’t let him…!_ ]

Ezra just shook his head, shoving her thoughts aside. She had no way of knowing that, and that anger had to go _somewhere_ …

The Force suddenly pulled at him urgently, drawing his attention up ahead where there seemed to be some sort of commotion going on. Loud voices, shoving bodies, the beginning of a brawl. 

Kanan scowled. “We need to go around.”

“Uh, yeah that’s easier said than done,” Sabine sniped. 

Then there was a loud _bang_ , dust and ruined scraps of fabric going flying. An eerie silence fell over the crowd, everyone’s heads snapping towards the source. Ezra couldn’t see anything, but he recognized what was about to happen. The panic just hadn’t quite set in yet. 

The Force was screaming at Ezra to turn around and _run_.

He was silently grateful that Kanan was already pulling on his arm painfully, moving away from the scene. He had evidently sensed the same warning. But before they could push through more than a couple of bodies… 

“ _INQUISITOR!_ ”

Ezra nearly jumped out of his skin. The word had been bellowed with a deep growl, accompanied by red hot rage that swirled in the Force. All of a sudden, his feet were rooted in place. 

“Oh _that’s_ not good…” Sabine muttered under her breath. 

“Come out here you, COWARD!”

There was another bang, and this time Ezra could hear the crackle of static discharge. The blood drained from his face. He knew that sound. 

This time, the blast triggered the crowd to move, throngs of people scrambling to get away from the epicenter. But even the din of shouting and crashing stands wasn’t enough to block out that horrid electric hum. Kanan’s grip got tighter on Ezra’s arm, sharp pain shooting through it as he was yanked and dragged along with the panicked crowd.

But this time, instead of eliciting obedience, the pain struck the center of Ezra’s chest and fueled his Inquisitor shell. Clenching his teeth together, Ezra ripped himself from Kanan’s grasp. 

“Ezra…!” 

Any further protest was lost as Kanan was pulled along in the flow of the crowd. With his short stature and firm stance, Ezra kept his ground. His Asset fell from his shirt and landed between his feet as a lothcat with a low growl. The crowd thinned, and he turned around to face the source of this chaos.

Smoke and dust had filled the air, but in a small area that had been cleared out, an elderly man clad in black armor stood. He was bald with a thick white beard, panting heavily as he lifted his weapon from the ground. “I know you’re around here!” he shouted out. “I _saw_ the beacon!”

The man spun around, and Thirteen could see the mark: a thick red line that stretched from his beard to just over his right eye that hooked to the right, a red square dotted over the stem. This man was a purge trooper. Much older and haggard than any Purge Trooper Thirteen had seen, but undeniable between the mark and the large electrohammer he was wielding. 

The trooper’s eyes widened when they landed on his Asset. Rage distorted his expression as he lifted his hammer, its electric hum charging up. “You _abandoned us!_ ”

The electrohammer was swung into the ground, but Thirteen knew what to expect. He rolled to the side to avoid the powerful discharge as his Asset quickly shifted into a nexu and charged the enemy. But the trooper raised his hammer just in time for the handle to be lodged into her mouth as she snapped at him. With a scowl, the trooper twisted his weapon and threw her off. Thirteen thrust a hand forward to push him back, but the trooper thrust the hammer into the ground to keep his footing.

A couple of blaster bolts flew through the air, but the trooper avoided them deftly. Thirteen’s eyes flickered to the source, where he saw the Mandalorian and the half-blind human.

“Ezra, get over here _now!"_

A distant part of Thirteen’s head recognized the order, acknowledged that it was coming from his master, and that he should absolutely obey. But there was also this all too familiar threat right in front of him, and he knew what the consequences would be if he and his Asset were bested. 

His Asset bounded towards the trooper again, but this time as she leapt, she quickly shifted into a monkey-lizard to avoid the large hammer and clung to the trooper before using her claws and beak to tear at his armor. While the trooper struggled to detach her, Thirteen reached out and wrapped the Force around the trooper’s neck before squeezing. 

“Ezra! Ezra, _no!_ ”

Thirteen lifted the trooper in the air. He couldn’t help but smile as the body squirmed and kicked, the helpless little life struggling to survive. He just had to keep squeezing for just a little longer, a little harder…

Then the trooper brought his arm down hard, elbowing his Asset square in the back, crushing her. Pain exploded in Thirteens’ chest, knocking the air out of him. He couldn’t even gasp as he crumpled to the ground, his vision blackening and dancing with stars. 

The Force was screaming at him, and he knew he was in mortal danger. Thirteen scrambled to draw a proper breath, but could only manage panicked gasps. He had no idea where his Asset was, he had no access to a weapon…

By the time his vision cleared, the trooper was standing over him, his electrohammer high in the air, ready to strike. Despair filled Thirteen as he realized that he had _failed_. Echoes of his past punishment bombarded his mind, and all he could do was raise his arms in a pitiful attempt to protect himself from the coming blow.

The Purge Trooper swung the hammer down.

There was a familiar hiss as a shadow suddenly appeared between Thirteen and the trooper. A harsh crackling filled Thirteen’s ears as the hammer struck the lightsaber. Kanan let out a strained grunt as he held the weapon at bay. 

Ezra’s stomach dropped, and his blood went cold as he stared in horror at Kanan’s lightsaber.

His _red_ lightsaber. 


	14. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hera deals with the fallout of the fight on Nar Shaddaa, and Kanan comes to a decision

“Hera! _Hera!_ ”

It wasn’t a voice she heard often. Especially not from her cockpit. It had Hera scrambling from the console to the hatch that led down to the loading dock. At the base of the ladder was Nara, her forepaws against the wall as she looked up to the opening. “Nara? What is it?”

“Something went wrong! They need a pick up, _now!_ ”

Cursing under her breath, Hera scrambled to the pilot’s seat, powering up the ship and slamming her hand on the comm. “Spectre One, Spectre Four, come in!”

“ _S-Spectre Two?_ ” Sabine’s voice stuttered. “ _We need a pick up!_ ”

“Yeah, I heard. I’m on my way. What’s your status?”

“ _We’re just a bit southwest from Kaadak’s shack, and there’s this old_ **_maniac_ ** _who clearly has a vendetta against Inquisitors…”_

“What?!” Hera exclaimed.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Sabine said with a sarcastic laugh, the sound of blaster fire in the background. _“Who would have thought there would be anyone here that would recognize the haran’la beacon?!_ ”

Well that was just their luck. “I’ll be at your location in less than a minute. Be ready.”

“ _There’s not exactly a place for you to land…"_

“Then it’s gonna have to be a scoop job.” Hera hit the internal comm. “Chopper! Get ready to open the ramp on my signal.”

The droid blatted in response, as Hera traced Sabine's comm to their precise location for a heading. The engines powered up, and Hera initiated the launch sequence, taking off from the port. The fact that Kanan had not answered her hails did not bode well. And Nara was too panicked to be forthcoming. The questions would have to wait. She wasn't going to distract them if they were in the middle of a fight. 

Her leather gloves squeaked as she gripped the spoke tightly. She could taste bile in the back of her throat while she tried to reassure herself. There had been no reason to think there would be anyone on Nar Shaddaa that would recognized the beacon. It hadn't even been an hour since Ezra left the range of the _Ghost's_ jammer. For someone to have not just seen the beacon, but had been close enough to _find_ them… What were the chances?

And yet Hera couldn’t completely swallow down her sour regret, as if she could have done something more to prevent this. Which was ridiculous. She needed to push the notion away and focus on the task at hand. That was, saving her crew. They were going to have to act fast. The locals would not appreciate having a large freighter hovering over a no fly zone. If they lingered too long, they were likely to find themselves under fire. 

As the _Ghost_ came up on Sabine’s location, Hera got a visual on the situation. A portion of the marketplace had been cleared and was in complete disarray, like a fireless bomb had gone off. In the center was a human man clad in tattered black clothing wielding a large weapon that crackled with purple energy. His weapon was clashing with a red blade. Hera was initially shocked that Kanan had given Ezra his lightsaber back. Then she got a better look at the actual swordsman.

Hera clenched her teeth, trying not to stare as she leveled the _Ghost_ out. Kanan had never even _mentioned_ owning a lightsaber. And if he was using it now after all this time… “Chopper, lower the ramp!”

The indicator light on the console began blinking, but Chopper’s panicked warbling filled the internal comm. Something about Nara…? Before Hera could question it, a white blur shot out from the _Ghost_ and tackled the black clad man. 

Hera cursed under her breath. This was the _opposite_ of what should be happening right now. “Spectre One, Spectre Four, get on the ship _now!_ ” She kept a close eye on the scopes for any other ships that might approach. 

A flash of red, and the man in black crumpled to the ground. 

“ _W-We’re coming!_ ” Sabine said through the comm. 

“Copy that,” Hera said, adjusting the engines to prepare for a quick getaway. She could see other blaster bolts starting to crisscross the clearing, aimed at her crew as they fled. “Come on, come on, come one…” she murmured. 

The moment Chopper announced that everyone was on board, she pulled the ship up away from the market. A few stray blaster bolts harmlessly dissipated across the _Ghost’s_ shields as she made a direct line to the closest hyperspace lane. Voices and some banging could be heard from the loading dock below. Angry and confused shouting. That was _not_ good.

They weren’t being followed, thank the Goddess. Of course most of the Nar Shaddaa locals weren’t going to care about a random freighter, but a lack of followers also meant whoever that man was had been alone. And according to Hera’s scans, there was no longer an outgoing beacon coming from within the _Ghost_ , which meant at least Kaadak had finished her work. 

The final destination didn’t matter. Hera just plugged in a set of coordinates far away from Hutt Space and activated the hyperdrive. Once the viewport was filled with swirling blue, Hera went over to the hatch and slid down the ladder into the loading dock. 

“Back _off_ , Sabine!” Nara growled, her teeth bared and her fur standing on end.

“You can’t expect me to just _stand_ here with my thumbs in my ears!” Sabine shouted back. “You _owe_ me _several_ explanations!”

Nara was using her body to separate Kanan and Sabine, her head looming over the Mandalorian. Sabine was not cowed by her size or snapping jaws. Her helmet was still on, her hands gesticulating wildly as she yelled. Kanan was trembling where he stood, staring at a blank space on the wall. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, one of them clutching the hilt of his lightsaber.

Ezra didn’t seem to be doing much better. He was standing hunched in the far corner away from everyone, holding his lothcat daiima tightly to his chest. His eyes were slightly unfocused, and his breathing was noticeably labored. At least he was also noticeably collarless.

“We don’t owe you _anything!_ ” Nara snarled. “Right now, you are just making things _worse!_ ”

“What am _I_ doing that - ?!”

“ _Enough!_ ” Hera barked, cutting through the argument. She used her arms to step between them and create space between Nara and Sabine. Once it was clear that they weren’t going to jump at each other’s throats again, Hera sighed and rubbed her forehead. “What happened? Obviously Kaadak managed to get the collar off…”

“Where to start?” Sabine said with a humorless chuckle. “The fact that Kanan has some connection with Crimson Dawn, or that we were just attacked by some ancient Imperial who has it out for Inquisitors?!”

“What?” Hera glanced at Kanan, who hadn’t moved an inch since she came down. While she knew the highlights of Kanan and Nara’s past, Crimson Dawn had _never_ come up. Or any other sort of crime syndicate. As far as Hera knew, Kanan’s crimes had been purely petty and entirely self-serving.

“Apparently Kaadak used to work for Crimson Dawn, had their mark,” Sabine went on, the bitterness evident in her voice. “Kanan recognized it and just went _ballistic_.”

“Of course he did,” Nara snapped. “Crimson Dawn is _vile_ , their ranks have no scruples. They would take and use Ezra and the Little One in a _heartbeat!_ ”

“Oh ho ho, it was more than that,” Sabine bit back. “It was personal, I could tell! _What are you two hiding?!_ ”

“Stop it, _stop it!_ ” Hera yelled. This wasn’t going to get them anywhere, not when Kanan and Ezra were both catatonic. That needed to be addressed first. She put a hand on Sabine’s shoulder. “Chopper, go with Sabine to the engine room to run diagnostics.”

“ _Run diagnostics?_ ” Sabine squeaked. “Hera, I deserve to get some answers!”

“And you _will_ ,” Hera said sternly. “But right now, you are going to help Chopper run diagnostics. _Understood?_ ”

Hera expected Sabine to keep pushing back more, but to her surprise and _great_ relief, Sabine just scowled. " _Fine_." She ripped herself from Hera’s hand and walked over to the ladder. “Come on, Chop,” she growled as she disappeared into the depths of the ship.

“P-Purge Trooper…”

Hera turned to see Ezra’s eyes flickered hesitantly between her and the floor. "What's that, love?"

Ezra licked his lips. “Th-That trooper with the electrohammer and the mark…” He trailed a shaky finger down the right side of his face. “He was a Purge Trooper. But… this one was so _old_ … And what’s he doing out _here?_ ” Ezra’s voice was getting progressively higher pitched as he spoke. 

“Well, he’s gone now,” Hera said softly, taking a small step closer to Ezra. “And everyone is okay.”

Ezra glanced up past her before quickly looking back down, his grip on his daiima tightening. Nara had wrapped herself around Kanan protectively, obscuring him from view. She was gazing intently at Hera and Ezra as she silently observed their conversation. 

Perhaps ‘okay’ was a relative term. But none of them were physically hurt, and they got that horrible collar off of Ezra. They could figure this out. First there was just the monumental task of soothing two sets of traumatized Force sensitives. Hera sighed. Kanan and Nara would be okay. Ezra and his daiima needed to be addressed first. 

Hera took another step closer to them, encouraged when they didn’t flinch or shy away from her. It wasn't like she has had much of a chance to interact with them. Most of what she knew of them was from what Kanan told her. “Ezra?”

He looked up at her, his eyes clearer than Hera had ever seen them before. Any facade he had worn before was gone, and with his baggy shirt hanging low off one skinny shoulder, he actually looked like a _child_. “He…” Ezra’s voice was barely audible, and Hera could see him swallowing nervously. “H-He’s not a Jedi…”

Hera bit her lip, hearing echoes of quiet conversations shared in the middle of the night cycle. Given Ezra’s history, she didn’t know if that was a reassurance or a cause for alarm. “That’s not really for me to say,” she replied quietly. “Let’s just get you two settled, okay?”

Ezra’s shoulders stiffened slightly. “S-Settled?”’

“Yeah… I’m sure you’re both exhausted.” She put a hand on his back and gently nudged him toward the cargo bay door. “Kanan always has a stash of meal packs hidden away.”

Just before stepping into the cargo bay, Ezra stopped and turned back toward Kanan and Nara. His daiima made a small growl-like sound in the back of her throat, her ears back and flat against her head. 

“They’ll be okay,” Hera said assured. 

Ezra gave a small nod, turning back around. Hera gently led him over to his cot and sat him down before digging through Kanan’s cold storage unit. Unfortunately there weren’t any leftovers, just some packs of vegmeat. It would have to do for right now. Hera pulled one out and ripped one open. “Here,” Hera said, offering it to Ezra. “I’ll make us some real food later tonight.”

The boy took it wordlessly, staring at the vaguely green food stuff. Then he blinked and looked back up at Hera with a small frown. “You knew?”

Hera raised a questioning eyebrow. “Knew what?”

“Knew w-what Kanan is?”

She bit her lip, not wanting to betray too much. “And… what do you think Kanan is?”

Ezra just shook his head, obviously overwhelmed and confused. 

“Eat your lunch,” Hera said gently but firmly. Then she addressed the daiima curled up in his lap. “You make sure he eats and takes it easy, alright?”

Her eyes widened slightly, her head shifting slightly back and forth. She seemed shocked that Hera was actually talking to her. Poor thing wasn’t used to being treated like an actual being. It took every fiber of Hera’s self control to not reach forward and pet a hand over her head. It was largely taboo for another sentient to touch a Force sensitive’s daiima. It was considered a very personal and intimate act for them. 

So Hera just smiled at her. “What should I call you?”

The daiima glanced up at Ezra, who frowned slightly. “Why does everyone keep asking that?” Ezra asked quietly.

Which… meant she didn’t have a name. It shouldn’t have been that surprising. Ezra’s parents had kept them apart, the Inquisitorious regarded daiima as nothing but ‘Assets’... But has Kanan and Nara really spent all these days with them without even giving Ezra’s daiima some sort of moniker? “She’s like Nara,” Hera pointed out. “Why shouldn’t she have a name?”

The two of them both just stared at her blankly. Perhaps this was too hard of a conversation to have right now in the wake of all of this excitement. “Just… eat,” Hera said gently. “Maybe lay down for a few minutes.”

Ezra gave a small nod, taking a nibble of the vegmeat. 

It was as good as she was going to get. Giving another smile, Hera straightened. “Let me know if you need anything.” She knew they wouldn’t, but she might as well start normalizing just the mere notion that they’re not alone anymore.

Reasonably certain that Ezra and his daiima were in a steady state, Hera braced herself to deal with her other traumatized crew member.

* * *

It had been… too easy. 

It was difficult to pinpoint what exactly had sent them over the edge. They were used to being separated so that it couldn’t be the distance. Of course, the revelation that this locksmith was a member of _Crimson Dawn_ …

[ ** _Former_** _Crimson Dawn._ ]

[ _We don’t know that!_ ]

[ _You could_ **_sense_ ** _her sincerity… She’s desperate to stay hidden._ ]

As always, Nara was the voice of reason, and Kanan both clung to it and despised it. Besides, that hadn’t been the breaking point. Even if seeing that symbol had sent him spiralling back to those towering and twisting vines, the vaulted ceilings and broken statuesque columns in dark caves lit only by countless candles…

It was a miracle he had managed to keep most of the threads of himself together.

Was it when that trooper arrived? The warning the Force suddenly screaming in his ear just as the old man had screamed for the Inquisitor?

Seeing the humming hammer, about to swing down and crush the boy’s head…

It was another frayed thread, his saber twisting together and radiating its horrid bleeding light. It was worth it to protect the kid, to save him. That was all that kept him tied together. _He was protecting the kid_.

The trooper thought he was an Inquisitor. Raved on about he had been abandoned, left to die alongside his brothers…

But it wasn’t even those words that had cut through him completely, ripping apart the few threads he had left. 

It was the _eyes_. Those dark brown eyes filled with anger, deep-set under craggly brown skin. 

_He was a clone_.

Untethered, Kanan dissipated like a wisp of smoke, and Caleb took over. 

It had been so _easy_...

A̸̯̩͕̲̪̰͚̟̩͉̽͐̋͜l̵͎̙͕̱̞̼͍̹̳̬̄́̊͜͝w̵̮̾ȁ̶̱̮̞̥̓͊̓̔̓͒͌̍̕͘ỷ̸̧̪͉̀͒s̶̛̜̫̝̼̬̠̓̔̎̀̓͝ ̴̮̈́r̵͎͓̦͓̦͐̽̈͊͛͘ȅ̵̢̡̛̲̬̣͕̼͙͓̤̓̅͋ͅm̷̰̅̓̎̅͌̒ę̸̩̗͖̣̎̄͂̇̎̀͐̑̋͊̿͜m̶̹̑̂͝b̷̡̟̭̫̝̗͖̫͗̐̈́̋̚͜͜e̸̡̛̯̫̮͖͌̊͑̿̚͝r̸͙̬̘̗͍̦̯̮̟̈́̕͠ͅ ̷̙̮̎̊̊͑͊͂I̴̖̼͇̽̓̎̾͑͘͝ ̵̲͖̮͓̜̹̈͐̾a̶̙̰̯͗͗̅̀͘m̵̡͈̟͕͉̯̤͐̊̕̚̕ ̷̢̛̞͚̎̄̌͌́͝ḟ̴̞̠͚̙͚̾̏͑̓͂̈͝͠ȩ̸͕̻̼͍͉͉̹̘̑̒͜͠ͅả̷̳͍͎̦̅̀̾̽͗̄̇͠͠ȑ̷̺̠͇̌̄͘̚͠͝ͅ.̵̥̲̮̠͙̈́̾͗̓̑͐͗͠ ̵̢̳̣͎̖͙͖̔͆̅͒͠A̷̺͋̑l̴̹͌̾̒͠w̸̧̛̖̙̪̩̝̠͉͇͖̠͊̆́͐͝͝ā̸̧̯̲̜̠̬͕̞̝̣̊̍̃̌̄̽̋̕̚y̶̢̪̜͙̤̻̖̎̑͌̌̿͐͆̂̕͝s̴̨͑ ̷̢́͝ȑ̷̢̛̛͖̙̼͉͈̩͚̒̒́̕e̶͈̩̣̎̈́m̷͈̞̣̱̹͆̈́͜͠ë̶̛͓́́̓̋̐̅̓̒͜m̷͚̺̲̾͑̃̅͑͑̄b̵̛̹̘͇̱̻̯̘͇͐͆̃̈́̈̒̈͜e̸̢̛̫̼͔̒̾̾͑̿̍͒̀͘r̴̪̀͛͒̎̈́͝ ̴̨̺̲̹͖͔̻̗̬͊͐͘͝͠Ï̴̳̱̆̊̐͊̕ ̶̧̨̛̘̪͗͋̆̿̐͜a̸͍̗̭̩͔͇͙̝̒͜m̸̪̟͉͚͑̏͌͆͝ ̵̲͈̋̅͛h̸̨̛͖͎̰̩͕͆̎̓̇̀ͅu̴̗͈̅̿͛̽́n̸̨̳͘t̶͖͍̻͔̞͉̪͘ê̸̜̲̝̫̙͉̓̾̈́̓̈́͘̕͝r̸̠̄̔̕̚.̶̣̳̱͉͚̹̭̏̏̿̏̓̈́͘͜͜ ̴̡̥͍̇̌̈́̕À̷̘̦̻̑̈́͝͝l̴̡̟͕̼̜̖͉̥̂̃̊͗͂̈́͛w̴͇̠̻̜̤͍̞͒̆̑̕̚͝͝å̷̧̢̧͍̼̻̩̲͍̿͑̃̂͆̉͝͝ý̵̢̡̨̫̰͍̦̳̱̀̐͌̈̈̾̋͒s̴̨̨͍̉͋̆̿̑̌͊̉͌͘̕ ̴̡͍͍̳͎̥̠̫̬̳̽́͊͗̍̒̇̚͜ŗ̴̅e̶̥̘̤̺̒͌͒̎̉͑̉̿m̶̢͉͚̪̰͈̯̗̝̝͇̽́̌͆̍́̕͝͝ḙ̸̬̪̼̥̻̦̫͙͚̎̎̽͜m̵̧̢̤̍̃̔̂̒̾̓̅b̷̡̢͙͉̤̙̯͖̬̱̞̓́é̸̳̪̭̮̆̇̃ŗ̷̼͓̼̝̜̖̏͆͝ ̴̟͋̌̌͊́Î̴̡̛̻̩̼͓͍̥̞͉̱̗̈́͑̈ ̷̨̮̬̦̳̳̠̑̽̀̍͗̾̿̾͘̚â̵͙̱̤̎̌͌̎̕͠ṁ̵͙͈̠͍̬̱͉̗͍͑ͅ ̷̧̘̗̝̺̪̗͙̘̑̍̇̓̀̌̎̍f̴͚͖̞͙̰̦̬̍͒́̃͛͌͊͒̂͝͠i̴͉͎͉̹͕̋ͅl̵̡̩͓͕͉̩̹͚͆͊͛̈́̃͆̈́̋̕̕͜t̷͔̖̺̓͗͘h̵̨͎̫̯̲̠̃͘.̵̱͖̳̳̇̈́̈́̽̀̈́ ̵̨̻̦̝̘̼̮͇̓̄̍A̴̮͈̹̞̳͗̊̕l̷̨̡̹̯̻̲̗͙̲̍͝w̴̙͚̬͎̯̥͕͆̄͋̄̆̏̒͆͆͘a̶̛̛̙̻̬͋̌̌̒͒͝y̵̛̟̯͒͊̌͊̉͒̕͝s̴̼̯̽̐́͋̆͊̏͝ ̴͎̱̟͋͛͘͜r̴̢̧͖̮͉̫͕̮̬̩̈́̌̃́̆̐̑̓ę̷̡̙̣̱̞̠̭͕̐̈́̂͒m̴̖̰̣̘̒̈́ẽ̶̹͚̮͔̞͚̓̽m̵̨̩͙̤̬̞͕̉̒̊͘ḇ̴̧̠̲̣̂̂͝͝e̶̟̍̉̉̏̽̋̊͊r̷̗̪̝͍̓̾̌̍͠͝͝ ̸͇̯̩̓̈́̃̆̀Î̵̡̗̺̮̟̪͐̀̔͜͜͝ͅ ̶̡̛̘͆̅̅͊̒͐ȃ̷͓̉̽̃m̵̧̟̻̭̖͕͕̦̥̾̔͜ **̷͕̫̠͇̭̐̉̄̿̽n̵̡̧̩̬̟͍͎̩̑̍̎̊̃͐͐͋o̸̡̭̰̓̐ẗ̷̢̳́̈́̄̀̆h̶̗̻̻͖̘̥͋ȋ̶̫̜̻̭͓̹̯̦͂̂̋̕ͅn̴̝̖̜̑̋̈́͋̓̓̇͋g̷̟͆̒̿**.̴̦̻̣͖͍͉̠͓͎͙̤̀͋̌͐͒̀̓̎̑

It was like blacking out. Except it wasn’t. He could hear it, embody it, _feel_ it all keenly. But he wasn’t _there_. 

No, _he_ was there. _She_ was there. But Kanan… Nara… They were blurred out, somewhere just behind them. 

It was easy. 

It was _so easy_ to kill him. 

Then the threads began to slowly stitch themselves back together. Nara was wrapped around him, blocking anyone else from coming in and tangling it all up. His face burned, his vision red, and all he could hear was the sound of his own breathing.

Warm hand stroking along their fur… at first they stiffened at the intrusion, but a quick sniff confirmed the identity. They just continued to stand there, allowing themselves to be soothed by the soft words and touch. The threads were able to coalesce and bring Kanan back into himself. 

“What happened?”

They were the first words that he could actually understand since he started to fight the clone. He gave a slow blink to firm himself in the present. He was standing in the loading dock with Nara who was comforting him by pushing his body up against the wall with much needed pressure… and Hera was leaning against Nara, whispering into her ear.

Quickly reaching out in the Force, he confirmed that it was just the three of them. He relaxed slightly with a low growl. “It was… too much,” he murmured. “All at once, just _everything_ just came crashing _down…_ ”

“Alright, alright... Well, just start from the beginning. Kaadak works for Crimson Dawn?”

The statement made Kanan’s heart jump up into his throat, beating erratically. He had to focus on Nara’s point: _former_ Crimson Dawn, _former_ Crimson Dawn, _former_ Crimson Dawn…

“She used to,” Nara said flatly. “She said she left, that’s why she’s on Nar Shaddaa, hiding in Hutt Space.”

“And you think she’s lying?”

“No,” Kanan murmured. “But…” The risk, distant as it was, was too much for him to ignore. Even the smallest connection with Crimson Dawn could put all that he and Nara have built in jeopardy. Nara should have stayed on the ship, because now Kaadak probably heard about the half blind man wielding a red blade alongside a giant _wolf_ , and if word of _any_ of that got back to _him_ …

“Kanan, Nara… Is Sabine right? Do you have some sort of connection with Crimson Dawn?”

That’s right. That particular detail hadn’t come up in the nights of panicked rambling. It was a distant fact, something that never really _explicitly_ had an effect on their life, but still an organization to avoid at all costs. Even now, they couldn’t tell Hera the whole truth. That knowledge was too dangerous. Just like Hera had to keep some things about Fulcrum to herself… there were some things he and Nara had to keep to themselves.

But that didn’t mean he was going to lie. “I… I suppose.”

“You _suppose?_ ”

“Hera…” Kanan finally looked up, meeting her beautiful green eyes and hating the confusion, sympathy, and _understanding_ that filled them. He swallowed, trying to wet his throat. “The bottom line is Crimson Dawn _cannot_ find us. Can’t even get a _whiff_ , otherwise we will be hunted down, and it will put everyone on this ship in danger.”

Hera just gazed at him for a moment, searching his expression. “You know you’re going to have to give Sabine some sort of explanation.”

And what he just told Hera was not going to be enough to quell Sabine’s vicious need to know the entire picture. While she generally knew where the limits were, she was angry now. If she thought Kanan was hiding something that could put them in danger, she wasn't going to back down. They were going to have to come up with some sort of half truth that would satisfy her without _actually_ putting her in danger. “I’ll talk to her later,” he mumbled.

Hera continued to run her hands through the fur of Nara’s neck. “At least you got that collar off of Ezra,” she said with an edge of forced lightness.

It was the only good thing to have happened in this last hour. Because even after all this effort to slowly pull Ezra and his daiima away from their training and identity as an Inquisitor… A trooper just happened to detect their beacon before Kaadak managed to deactivate it.

Not just _any_ trooper. “What was a clone doing on Nar Shaddaa…?” he mused out loud. 

“A clone? Ezra said it was a… a Purge Trooper?”

Realization echoed between Kanan and Nara as they put some of the pieces together. While they had never encountered Purge Troopers themselves, they had heard of them. They served the Inquisitorious, specially trained to kill Jedi. That must be how the Empire repurposed the clones, turning them into a dedicated Jedi killing force. Really, it was an obvious transition.

“Kanan? Nara?”

Right. The present. Now. “Purge Troopers work for the Inquisitorious,” Kanan said mechanically. “No doubt Ezra and his daiima interacted and trained with them often.”

“And it was a clone trooper?”

Those eyes… They had fought with them. Defended them. _Killed_ them… watched the light drain from those eyes as they struggled just to _survive_ …

“Yes,” Nara replied in his stead. “We… We recognized him. And knowing what his intentions were, knowing what they’re capable of, knowing what would happen if we didn’t take him out…!” Her voice began cracking, and she tucked her nuzzle under Kanan’s arm, seeking his embrace which he gladly gave. 

Kanan finished for her. “We had no choice.” To protect themselves, to protect Ezra and his daiima, to protect his crew, there was no way they could allow that man to live.

“Well, I don’t see that man’s death as any different than the troopers we deal with every day,” Hera said with a small sigh. 

It _was_ different. Kanan didn’t just shoot this trooper in an attempt to escape or to protect the crew. Sure, he might have been protecting Ezra and his daiima at first, but he had fallen back on old lessons. He and Nara _both_ had, tapping into their burning anger and pushing their assault until the threat had been eliminated. It just drove home the fact that nothing had changed… not really.

“I got Ezra and his daiima settled in the cargo bay,” Hera said. “And speaking of, care to explain why you haven’t given her a name?” Her voice was gentle despite the slight accusatory tone. “Or even a moniker.”

“I’ve been calling her Little One…” Nara said slightly sheepishly.

“Well after everything she’s been through, she deserves a proper name…” 

“Of course,” Kanan said defensively. “But daiima names aren’t just arbitrary things. It’s a part of the Force, something that the jemma and daiima have to discover together.”

Hera nodded slowly. “A Jedi thing?”

Kanan sighed. “Yeah… a Jedi thing…” A Jedi practice that Ezra and his daiima deserved to experience. The Jedi might be gone, but at least there were some parts that they could keep alive. Some practices that didn’t bring more attention to the blazing target on their backs… 

“Well, do it soon,” Hera said firmly. “Let her finally start to develop the agency that she’s been denied for so long.”

“We will,” Nara promised, moving her head over and rubbing her muzzle against Hera’s chest.

Kanan bit his lip. Of course they had already been planning on doing this, but it was easier said than done. To do it properly, Ezra’s bond with his daiima needed to be strong and clear. They needed to feel _safe_ with one another. That wasn’t going to be an easy task. It was going to take time and stability.

Their previous thoughts of retreating to Denova coalesced into a plan. “Hera…” Kanan said carefully. “I don’t really see any way around it, we’re going to have to take them into hiding.”

Hera’s eyes slowly slid downward to Nara, her hands slowly stroking her head. Then she let out a small sigh. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say to convince you to do that hiding on the _Ghost_.”

“I’ve just announced to dozens if not _hundreds_ of people that I’m Force sensitive. Word will travel fast, and now I _know_ there is some connection with Crimson Dawn on those streets… We have to disappear until it blows over. Hopefully… credible word won’t get out past Hutt space.”

“Well you don’t have to be _alone,_ ” Hera said. “I can keep the _Ghost_ in orbit…”

“We’re going to need to stay low for a _while_ ,” Kanan pointed out. “Kaadak wiped out our savings, you’re not going to have enough fuel for that kind of break, and I mean _besides_ …” He gave a knowing chuckle before lowering his voice to an understanding tone. “I know you, Hera. Sure, you’re down for the occasional vacation, but that’s not what this is. It might take weeks… _months_ … for us to help those two. You're not capable of staying in one place for that long. Not when there are so many suffering under the Empire. Not when you know you could be helping them."

It was one of the many reasons Kanan loved her. It was that spirit that had helped dig Kanan and Nara out of their destructive lifestyle. Gave them _purpose..._

Hera pressed her lips together. It was obvious that she wanted to argue, but Kanan knew he was right. Nothing - not even her love for Kanan and Nara - would get in the way of her mission.

"You could still visit us between missions..." Nara pointed out, her voice small.

Hera gave a humorless chuckle. "We could... Except if you're really that concerned about hiding from Crimson Dawn, it's probably best to restrict our contact to just a secure comm channel. At least until we can confirm that the underground chatter has moved on from this incident."

She was right, but it was still disappointing to hear. The thought of being away from the _Ghost_ for so long - not seeing Hera or Sabine, hell even Chopper - physically hurt.

But there really was no other choice. Particularly for Ezra and his daiima. They needed to do right by them. Someone had to.

Kanan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, centering himself. "I'll talk to Sabine later," he said. "Right now I need to talk with Ezra and the Little One."

Hera nodded. "Alright. I'll comm when food is ready."

She was about to step away when Kanan reached out and gently grabbed her arm. "Hey... Thank you... for everything."

Hera gave a small smile. "Of course, love."


	15. Clarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanan and Ezra have a much needed conversation in order clarify a few things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, a lot going on in my life. 
> 
> I've also taken some advice from a friend and am going to try and keep my chapters shorter, as I'm sure everyone's attention span is basically fried at the moment.

Numb wasn’t really the right word for what he was feeling. Blank? Confused? Lost? None of them really felt right.

Taking small bites of vegmeat gave Ezra something to do. The sensation of his teeth going through the greenish, tasteless block was the most coherent sensation he could process right now. Well, beyond his Asset being curled up on his lap, one of his hands slowly stroking her fur.

The way Kanan and Nara had fought the Purge Trooper… It was so familiar. The red blade aside, cold rage had flooded the Force as Kanan beat back the trooper’s electrohammer. And when the ship flew in overhead, the giant lothwolf leaping from the ramp and sinking her teeth into the trooper’s arm… 

After that, the Purge Trooper’s death had been swift. She and Ezra had been frozen in place as they watched it all go down, terror filling their senses. 

They had failed. They had failed, their master had to intervene and now _they were going to be punished_ … 

It was unclear what happened next. But the next thing Ezra knew, he was standing in the ship’s loading dock, his Asset gripped tightly in his arms. That was going to get him in even more trouble, but she was trembling, and he just _could not_ put her down.

And now he was sitting here in the cargo bay. All they could do now was wait. Oddly enough, he wasn’t afraid like he had been before. He felt a strange sort of acceptance for whatever happened next. Even though he was confused, he also felt like he was falling back into a familiar routine.

Kanan wasn’t a Jedi. But if he wasn’t a Jedi…

Did that mean he used to be an Inquisitor?

His eyes - or eye - wasn’t yellow or red like most Inquisitors. Although not all of them had such eyes. But now that he thought back on these last days, the way Kanan and Nara spoke and acted, the bits Ezra had sensed from Kanan during certain conversations… It made sense. Had Kanan escaped? Is that why they were trying so hard to get him to abandon the Empire? Because they had done the same… and _lived_.

The cargo bay door opened, and Kanan walked in with Nara close behind him. Ezra swallowed down the bit of vegmeat he had in his mouth, setting the rest of it aside before sitting up straight. He was determined to accept whatever discipline Kanan had in mind for him. 

[ _You don’t really think they’ll hurt us, do you…?_ ]

Ezra shoved her aside in his mind. She was still in his lap, but they really _should_ keep their mental connection to a minimum. She let out an audible whimper, her claws gripping at his pants in agitation. But Ezra was firm on this. This was only proper. He wasn’t willing to let her go, but some distance was necessary. 

Kanan and Nara walked up to them. “We… need to talk about what happened,” Kanan stated.

Ezra’s stomach flipped as he nodded slowly. He wondered what kind of punishment someone like Kanan would implement. In the past when he had failed to subdue a Purge Trooper, his old master would simply let the trooper beat him until he was nearly unconscious. Then he’d be minimally patched up before being forced to face a new trooper. Obviously that wasn’t really an option here.

Nara stepped up and sat in front of them while Kanan pulled his shoulders back and crossed his arms. Despite knowing that they had earned this, Ezra couldn’t keep his body from trembling. All of a sudden, he was finding it difficult to get his eyesight to focus properly.

“I’m sure you have questions,” Kanan said slowly. “First thing’s first… are either of you injured?”

He shook his head. No… No, they failed to subdue the Purge Trooper and they didn’t even get _hurt_. When had they gotten so _weak?_

Kanan sighed, kneeling down so he was eye level with Ezra. “Look,” he said quietly. “I’m not gonna hurt you, alright?”

Ezra couldn’t help but gape at Kanan incredulously. “B-But… we _failed_.”

Kanan frowned, his eyes slanting slightly in confusion. “Failed? Failed to do what?”

“I-I should be better at this, I _was_ better!” Ezra practically snarled, suddenly furious with himself. “I haven’t been defeated by a lowly Purge Trooper in _years!_ ” If the Seventh Sister had seen him defeated so easily, she would have flayed him alive.

“Hey!” Kanan snapped. “It’s _fine_. No one was hurt. We got away.”

Ezra swallowed hard, squeezing his daiima tightly to his chest. “What was he doing there…?” he murmured. He thought back over the trooper’s words. He wanted to kill Ezra. Not him specifically, but because he was an Inquisitor. A defector?

A defector like Kanan?

He focused back on Kanan (or at least _tried_ to focus, his vision was still fluctuating). Ezra had never heard of an Inquisitor successfully defecting. Anyone who tried to leave or fight back was caught and tortured to death. Ezra and his daiima had been forced to watch one such execution. Did Kanan and Nara just get lucky? Ezra couldn’t imagine the Inquisitorious just letting them go. 

Unless they faked their deaths. He knew there had been some incident a few years before Ezra had been recruited. Jedi had infiltrated and destroyed their facilities, killing scores of Purge Troopers along with a couple Inquisitors. It would have been a good cover for escape.

Ezra’s vision drifted. When he forced them to focus again, he was staring at Kanan’s saber. He was still holding on to it tightly. It looked nothing like an Inquisitor’s lightsaber. It was a single hilt. Only one blade. 

Kanan sighed, glancing down to where Ezra was looking. “Told you I’m not a Jedi,” he said with a hint of mirth. 

Ezra nodded slowly. “Y-You were an Inquisitor.”

For a moment, Kanan only stared at Ezra. Then his eyes went a little distant as he gave a small shake of the head. “No. I’ve never been an Inquisitor.”

 _What?_ How was that possible? The entire scenario Ezra had just thought up dissolved into ash. Unless Kanan was lying. But he didn’t _seem_ like he was lying. Usually Ezra couldn’t really tell if someone was being truthful, but the Force was always unnervingly clear when it came to Kanan. And right now, the Force was saying that Kanan was telling the truth.

But if that was the case… “Th-Then… w-what _are_ you?”

Kanan gave a half smile. “I’m nothing, Ezra.”

That wasn’t an answer, but Ezra was really in no position to push further. Obviously Kanan wasn’t going to give him a real answer. Besides… wasn’t Ezra the same? A non-entity with just these _labels_ and _shells_ to be slipped on and off.

“We’ve never lied to you,” Kanan went on. “I meant what I said before. We’re not going to hurt you.”

“We want to help you,” Nara said. “We know someplace safe we can go. It’s away from the Empire, away from the Inquisitorious… A place we can lay low and recover.”

That didn’t make any sense. “I-I’m not injured…”

Kanan and Nara glanced at one another. “Maybe not physically,” Nara said. “But your connection with the Little One, everything that’s been done to the both of you…”

“We might not have been Inquisitors,” Kanan said. “But we know what it’s like to be ripped apart and stripped of everything. Like we said before, there may be no going back, but there is always a way forward. You can still build yourselves up to be someone _new_. It’s what we did… and we can help you do it too.”

Kanan had said something like that before, but it still felt like an empty offer. Why would Kanan and Nara want to waste _more_ time on them? Before it had been a necessity. They had to deactivate his collar to make sure it didn’t lead Inquisitorious back to this ship. Going to Kaadak had not only cost them _thousands_ of credits, they attracted a Purge Trooper which put them all in danger… 

Maybe this was part of that. Kanan and Nara were going to take them some place where they could freely mold her and Ezra into whatever they deemed necessary. They _owed_ them, and this is how they would pay them back: giving over their lives and submitting to whatever Kanan and Nara willed.

It made sense, reorienting Ezra and making things seem a bit more clear. 

Kanan let out a small sigh, uncrossing his arms. “It’ll take a couple days to reach our safe haven. And maybe an additional day to scan the planet and make sure it’s _still_ safe. So in the meantime, I want to get a better idea of your training. Of your connection with the Force and with your daiima.”

At the word ‘training’, a million memories of darkness and pain ran through Ezra’s head. There was that bone deep cold that he had learned to always seek out, else give his master even more reason to make him suffer… 

“Ezra.” 

That comforting buzz was back, blurring out the memories and slowly leeching away the cold from his muscles. He blinked a couple times and saw that Kanan was right in front of him now, a hand on his shoulder. Strangely enough, Ezra found that he wasn’t afraid of the proximity. Whatever Kanan needed to do to him, he would accept it. 

“We’re not going to… _do_ anything,” Kanan said. “Right now, we’re just going to talk. Maybe meditate at _most_. And if it gets to be too much, we’ll stop. Okay?”

“Okay…” Ezra replied automatically and without understanding. 

Kanan’s gaze slid down to his daiima. “We want to hear from both of you.”

Ezra could feel her claws digging into his leg again as apprehension rolled off her in waves. It was strange for Ezra too. It was like Kanan was talking to him… except he wasn’t. Neither of them were used to being anything but ‘Ezra’ or ‘Thirteen’. 

“How long were you two with the Inquisitorious?”

Ezra rubbed at his neck, trying to figure out how to even answer. He rubbed out the muscles and scar tissue that had been compressed for so long, again feeling so relieved that the collar was gone now. And with it, any chance of returning to the Inquisitorious in one piece. 

[ _The fifteenth Empire Day just passed…_ ] she gently reminded him.

It was a push to get him to _acknowledge_ what was past, what was strictly forbidden. But this man, his new master, was demanding answers. And so like pushing a vibroblade between ribs, Ezra let out a shuddered sigh as he embraced the simple fact of his birth. “I’m… I’m fifteen…” he whispered.

Kanan nodded slowly. “And do you know how old you were when you were taken?”

_“Hey, they’ve got a kid.”_

_Ezra screamed as the trooper grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him out from under his bed. Ezra clawed at the ground and kicked his legs to try and break free, but the trooper was too strong, all he managed to do was peel back a fingernail that caught along the floor. But it didn’t hurt. Not when he was surrounded by flashing bright lights and large hands grasping painfully at him._

_As he was dragged out of his bedroom, his parents frantic and angry voices became louder and clearer. Ezra managed to get a glimpse of them between the swarm of white plasteel. They both had their arms pulled back behind them and secured with cuffs, being led outside by pairs of troopers despite their struggling._

_“MOM! DAD!” Ezra screamed, trying to reach for them._

_His parents strained to turn their heads back. “No! You can’t!” his mother yelled as they were pushed out into the street. “Ezra! EZRA!”_

_As the troopers dragged Ezra towards his parents, the ever present pressure in his heart began to swell into breathtaking pain. Ezra let out a strangled cry, his struggles renewed as he tried not just to escape but to relieve whatever it was that was yanking on his chest._

_He was carried to the threshold, and suddenly the pain became_ **_blinding_** _. Every muscle in his body tensed and twisted in agony as he felt his heart slowly being ripped from his chest through his spine._

_Then there was a loud clatter, and the troopers suddenly dropped Ezra to the ground. He was gasping between harsh sobs as he scrambled back into the house, anything to make the pain stop. Then he collapsed to the ground with wheezing pants, still disoriented by the horrible pain that had been ripping through him just moments earlier._

_[_ Bright loud bright bright bright…! _]_

 _“What is_ **_that_ ** _?”_

_Ezra weakly lifted his head, blinking through tears._

_[_ I can… see?? _]_

_Confusion echoed every corner of Ezra’s mind. His and… hers?_

_On the floor, at the far side of the living room, was an open container on its side. And lying beside it was a dark red… slug? The troopers were all expressing their disgust at the sight, but Ezra could only stare in sick wonder._

_The slug wiggled slightly, her head lifting slightly towards Ezra. Ezra’s heart was pounding hard in his chest as he felt his eyes begin to burn. It was without conscious thought that he crawled towards her, beckoned by some powerful yearning to just hold her._

_He scooped her up from the ground, and all at once, the chaos and horror around them didn’t matter. It all fell away into nothingness. In that moment, the ever present aching pull in his chest was suddenly gone, and he actually felt_ **_whole_** _._

_It would be the first - and last - time he ever felt at peace._

A small whimper pulled Ezra back to the present. She had her face pressed against his stomach, and a fine tremor ran through her body. He kneaded his fingers into her fur, finding it oddly calming.

“... S-Seven,” Ezra finally murmured. The word peeled open a small window, bits and pieces of his past beginning to whisper around the edges of his mind. 

Kanan let out a low growl. “Alright,” he said softly. “And have you spent all these years with your master?”

Ezra shook his head, swallowing hard as a shiver ran down his back. “I don’t know how long I was with her…” _Too long_.

Nara inched a little closer, lifting her snout towards his daiima. “Little One, do you wanna say anything?”

Her claws dug into Ezra’s legs, and Ezra squeezed his hands around her body. “She can’t.”

“I promise, no one here is going to hurt either of you if she speaks up…”

“No, she _can’t_. She’s never spoken.” Ezra had never seen another Asset - daiima, whatever - speak aloud before. 

Well that wasn’t completely true. When they were first brought to Arkanis, sometimes they could hear the other animals, the other kids’ Assets, whispering softly with them. But as the days and weeks went by, the Purge Troopers beat it out of them until their Assets were silent and submissive. It was the one thing Ezra’s Asset had always been ahead of the curve on. The one thing they were good at.

“Well, that’s something we can work on,” Kanan said. “You’re no different than Nara,” he said to her. “Soon enough, you’ll even have a name,” he said with a small smile.

A name. On one hand it seemed unnecessary. Why did she need one? She was just… _her_. His conscience. On the other hand, a name for her did seem kind of _nice_. 

[ _What… what kind of name do you want?_ ]

She lifted her head slightly to look up at him with surprise. Ezra knew it was because _he_ had initiated this conversation, which was strange for him as well. He hasn’t been able to have a proper exchange with her since back when she was just a voice in his head.

[ _I… I don’t know_ ] she replied meekly. [ _I don’t see why it matters_ ]

Ezra didn’t either. Frankly, none of this made sense, but this is what their master wanted. What other choice did they have but to obey and comply?

“Do you have any questions for us?” 

Ezra looked up at Kanan. Immediately, several questions popped into his head. Some he’s held since the beginning, some that were constantly morphing as he learned more about Kanan and Nara.

But right now, he didn’t have the energy or willpower to bring them up. He wasn’t sure he could bear to hear the answers. So he shook his head. 

“In that case, while we wait for dinner…” Kanan rearranged himself so he was sitting back on his heels, his shoulders pulled back so he was sitting up straight. “Why don’t we do a bit of meditation?”

“W-What’s that?”

“Hmm…” Kanan frowned slightly, slapping the top of his thigh. “It’s how we can connect more strongly to the Force. Not just to the Force, but to our daiima.” He looked at Nara. “Our bond and our tether… That is, if it’s there.”

Ezra looked between Kanan and Nara, reminded of the fact that they were _not_ tethered together. The thought made Ezra feel sick. He held his daiima just a bit tighter. It was quite literally unthinkable.

“Basically, sit quietly, close your eyes, and breathe evenly.” Kanan let out a soft sigh as he closed his eyes to demonstrate. “Find your center and focus on the Force.”

Ezra didn’t know what that meant, but the first part was doable. He closed his eyes and… breathed. 

Not much happened. He squirmed a bit, compulsively petting his daiima. It was kind of nice. Quiet and calming… So many threads and bonds circling around all of them in the cargo bay. His anxiety and confusion were intertwined with hers through their bond, and the tether that bound them together was as strong as twisted durasteel.

What was perhaps a bit more frightening were the other threads floating around. For the first time, they could see the bonds connecting her with Nara and Ezra to Kanan. They didn’t even know that was _possible_. Bonds were just things connecting Force users to their Assets ( _daiima_ ). It explained why Ezra could so easily sense Kanan’s emotions, but it was baffling. Why were they connected? What did it mean?

But perhaps most terrifying was the yawning gap between Kanan and Nara. Their bond was still there, but their _tether_ … Well, it wasn’t _gone_. It had been broken. _Shredded_. The frayed threads of either end were hot and angry, writhing in agony as they reached for one another over a dark void of _nothingness_. As the ends of the threads approached the void, they were slowed, stretched out, and destroyed. It was… the most frightening and incomprehensible thing she and Ezra had ever seen. In their minds, they cowered from the eldritch monstrosity, but at the same time, they felt a horrible _need_ to try and yank each end of the tether together and somehow fix this abomination. 

How could anyone _live_ like that?

There was a soft chuckle, and Ezra opened his eyes. Kanan hadn’t moved, his eyes still closed, but he was donning a half smile. “I know,” Kanan said quietly, his voice hollow. “I know.”

Ezra spent a moment just observing the Jed-... his master. He really knew nothing about this man. All his initial assumptions had all been proven to be wrong. He had this calm and almost stoic demeanor, but it was a veneer. Beneath it was a chaotic storm. He fought with his rage, Ezra had _felt_ the cold hatred back on Nar Shaddaa. But his actions, the calming warm buzz that Ezra associated with him… it was like nothing Ezra had experienced before. 

Some more rational part of his mind reasoned that he should be terrified of this man and his daiima. They had drained their resources and funds for Ezra… They had every reason - not to mention the means and rage necessary - to rip whatever sense of self Ezra had remaining and build him up as per their desires.

But a part of Ezra didn’t mind. Bizarrely, if anyone was going to be his master… he _wanted_ it to be someone like Kanan.

And he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.


	16. Good Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabine gets SOME answers, and Kanan realizes just how long the road ahead of them is

Sabine was leaning back against the wall as Chopper rolled back and forth. He was muttering about unnecessary testing and stupid distractions for the organics… Sabine was inclined to agree. Hera sent her away with a flimsy excuse like a child. Sabine probably _should_ have pushed back, but she knew she had been outflanked. Obviously no one was going to give her the answers she wanted. So she just had to stay here and stew in her frustration.

On one hand, she wasn’t exactly in a position to judge. She had worked _so hard_ to try and get an in with Black Sun. Honestly, she would probably be working for them now if Ketsu hadn’t betrayed her, put her on a path that crossed with the _Ghost’s_ … 

But Crimson Dawn was another story. Sure, Black Sun had worked for the Empire in the past, usually to carry out their dirtier work. It was still better than what she had been doing at the Academy. But Crimson Dawn had its roots as violent marauders. They wandered from planet to planet, stripping them of their resources, raping and pillaging their local populations… Nowadays they weren’t much better, they just had more power and structure. Even the Empire seemed wary to go up against them directly.

Kaadak had good reason to be in deep hiding if she had indeed left Crimson Dawn. If the syndicate found her, she would be _lucky_ if she was only killed. 

But that wasn’t any of Sabine’s business. What she was concerned about was _Kanan’s_ connection to Crimson Dawn. She didn’t care what he or Nara said, they obviously had some sort of personal connection with the syndicate. While the connection alone was disturbing, what was more unsettling was that Kanan had _hidden_ this from them. Even Hera had seemed surprised by the revelation. 

What was Kanan hiding, and _why_ was he hiding it? 

There was the clanging of boots on durasteel, and Sabine looked over to see Hera walking into the engine room. “How’s it going?” she asked.

Sabine stood up straight, crossing her arms. “You can’t tell me you’re okay with this?”

Hera waved a hand out, as if trying to calm her. “Sabine, we don’t have the whole picture…”

“ _We?_ As in, not even _you?_ ”

“You know Kanan would never put us in danger.”

“How can I possibly know that?! If he hasn’t even told _you_ about this…!”

“He’s told me enough,” Hera said firmly. Then she let out a small sigh. “I trust him.”

“ _How?_ I mean, I get that we don’t owe each other every detail of our life stories, but hiding something _this serious_ …? How can you possibly trust him?”

“Trust isn’t about knowing everything. It’s about having faith, even when you _don’t_ have all the facts.” Hera stepped up to her, putting her hands on Sabine’s shoulders and looking her straight in the eye. “Sometimes… we’re safer _not knowing_.”

That didn’t make Sabine feel better. In fact, it just made her even _more_ apprehensive. What could Kanan be hiding that was so dangerous? At least she understood why Fulcrum was shrouded in secrecy. She didn’t _like_ it, but accepted that a certain level of distance was necessary to protect the contact. But Kanan _lived_ with them, _knew_ them… 

What could possibly be so dangerous that he wouldn't even tell _Hera?_

“Right now, we’re headed towards a safe haven, a place Kanan and Nara trust. They’re going to spend some time there with Ezra and his daiima, help them recover.”

“That _sounds_ great and all, but that’s a pretty lofty goal. The kid is completely kriffed in the head, and Kanan thinks he can just hide away and fix him?!”

Hera pressed her lips together in a tight line, and that was when Sabine realized that Hera actually _agreed_ with what she was saying. Hera wasn’t any happier about Kanan taking the kid and running away either. 

“I trust Kanan,” Hera repeated quietly. “And given the circumstances, if anyone can help that boy and his daiima… it’s Kanan and Nara.”

Sabine’s stomach squirmed uncomfortably at Hera’s apparent sincerity. Hera has known Kanan for years now, and even _she_ was wary about all of this. The very ground Sabine was standing on suddenly felt unstable and slippery. “So… that’s it? Kanan is just gonna take the kid and leave?”

Hera nodded. “It won’t be forever. We just… have no other recourse. There is nowhere we can take Ezra where he’d be safe. As far as we know, his parents are gone. And with no Jedi Order, there’s no place safe for Force sensitives right now.”

It was just all too _simple_. And Hera was too _okay_ with this. “And how is this supposed ‘safe haven’ going to be any better than the _Ghost_ which can literally scramble its own signature?”

“The _Ghost_ might be able to scramble its signature, but we’re going to need to take some jobs in the not too distant future. Paying Kaadak wiped out our coffers. And after what just happened on Nar Shaddaa… Kanan is going to need to lay low for a bit. At least until things blow over.”

Which brought them back to Kanan’s mysterious connection with Crimson Dawn, which made Sabine even more twitchy. “I want to talk to Kanan.”

“And you’ll get your chance to. Right now he’s with Ezra, but I told him specifically to make some time.” Hera gave a small sigh. “It’s not that he _wants_ to keep us in the dark. He just feels he has no choice.”

Sabine just bit her lip and nodded. She would reserve her judgement for after she got a chance to grill Kanan, but it was hard to imagine what could possibly quell her anxiety. Whatever Kanan was hiding, it was obviously dangerous. But if that was the case, shouldn’t she be all on board for Kanan putting some distance between himself and the _Ghost_ for a while? Hell, he was even taking the (ex?) Imperial agent with him.

It felt as if everything around her was crumbling, and she was beginning to wonder if she hadn’t been surrounded by rubble from the beginning.

“I’m going to try and whip up some fresh food,” Hera said. “I think it’s time we all try to have a proper meal together again.”

“Um, I’m sorry, _you’re_ gonna whip up some food?” Sabine scoffed, putting the tools away. “Oh no. Chopper can finish up these so-called ‘diagnostics’. If Kanan’s not cooking, I’m taking over.”

Hera chuckled. “Fair enough. I’ll stay down here with Chop. Despite appearances, these diagnostics _do_ need to get done.”

Sabine kept herself from rolling her eyes as she went up to the mess. Even if the diagnostics technically needed to get done, she knew Hera had still used them as a distraction. Whatever. Cooking was an infinitely better one at this point. Especially since it meant she wouldn’t have to choke down Hera’s attempt at ‘cooking’. 

They didn’t have much for fresh ingredients at the moment. Their only protein was in powder or bar form and the only vegetable was some wrinkled up Chando peppers. Sabine looked through all the half empty containers of herbs, flavorings, and oils. She could _probably_ make a halfway decent soup with what was here. She hummed, looking between the protein powder and the meal bars. Which would taste less weird with goro paste and parso flakes?

Making a decision, Sabine put the bars away and turned on the small stove before beginning to prep all the ingredients. 

She let herself get lost in the process of cooking. It was a welcome mental break from the chaos of this last week. Everything was just a little bit too much right now, and she wanted to be in a clearer headspace for when she did actually try to get things straightened out with Kanan. 

She was about to let the soup simmer when the galley door hissed open. Looking over her shoulder, her stomach squirmed as she watched Kanan step in. She quickly looked back at the soup, stirring it more than was necessary. She hated that Kanan felt like a stranger to her right now. 

Kanan stepped up beside her, although he stayed an arm’s length away. “Smells good,” he noted.

“It’s the goro paste,” she pointed out flatly.

Kanan gave a soft sigh. “I understand you’re upset.”

“Gee, what gave you that idea?” Sabine bit back, rolling her eyes. 

There wasn’t an immediate response besides the tapping of Kanan’s fingers against his arm. “You’re not wrong,” he finally said. “I have… had dealings with Crimson Dawn in the past.”

Sabine stopped stirring at that, slowly removing the spoon and placing the lid on the pot. She still didn’t turn to look at him. Her heart was pounding in her chest. “Why have you never told us?”

“Because it never came up. And it was never important.”

“How is it not important?” Sabine abruptly turned and looked up at him earnestly. “You said it yourself, Crimson Dawn doesn’t just let their people leave. You don’t think it’s important for us to know so we don’t accidentally tip Crimson Dawn off to your whereabouts?”

“Ideally, we would never take _any_ jobs that could link back to Crimson Dawn.”

“And yet…” Sabine said pointedly.

Kanan gave a low growl before rubbing a hand over his mouth, like he was trying to unmake the sound. “Well, now you know.”

Sabine’s mind was grinding a thousand parsecs a minute, trying to imagine Kanan being involved with the syndicate. Why would Kanan lower himself to work for such horrible people?

Of course, was she _really_ one to talk?

Sabine sighed, checking the soup to make sure it wasn’t too hot as it simmered. “Hera says you’re taking the kid and leaving.”

“It won’t be forever.”

“You’re still _leaving._ ”

“It’s for the best,” Kanan said. “After the mess we’ve left on Nar Shaddaa, the safest thing to do for everyone is to put some space between ourselves and the _Ghost_. You and Hera can keep working, earn back the credits we just spent. And I… Nara and I will be with Ezra and his daiima.”

Sabine nodded slowly. “Do you really think you can help him?”

Kanan hit his thigh with his fist. “Yeah… I do.”

Sabine sighed. “Okay.” She turned off the heat to the soup. “Dinner’s ready.”

Kanan smiled, stepping closer and putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it. Sabine glanced up at him and gave a small smile back, feeling a bit more at ease. She didn’t have all the answers she wanted, but the ground beneath her felt a bit more solid again. This was the same man she knew and trusted. Kanan didn’t lie or try to make excuses… He had just _talked_ to her.

Things were going to figure this out. It might not be a straightforward road, but they would be okay.

* * *

The next few days as they flew to Denova were agonizingly long. Kanan and Nara focused on preparing for their stay and trying to get Ezra and the Little One to open up. The latter was, unsurprisingly, extremely difficult. They might have rejected their Inquisitor identity, but that didn’t erase the years of training and brainwashing. The Little One was just so submissive, and Ezra still had a habit of lashing out at her.

Kanan was already exhausted, and they had barely started.

A _nice_ change was that everyone was eating dinner together now. The first night had been a bit tense. Sabine might have been mollified by her talk with Kanan, but she was still upset with the secrets. And on top of that, Ezra and his daiima had been overwhelmed by the close quarters of the galley. The Little One hid under the table, curled up between his feet, and Ezra just kept his head down and slowly stirred his soup around. 

But Kanan wanted Ezra to spend much time with other people before they got situated on Denova. Ezra certainly would have never been able to socialize with other people properly under the watch of the Inquisitorious. And Kanan strongly suspected Ezra hadn't been able to make any friends growing up with his parents. If his daiima had been locked up, Ezra wouldn't have never been able to go far. He certainly wouldn't have been able to freely go out and play with other kids. And of course, the Little One hadn't even been able to interact with Ezra's parents. 

They both needed as much exposure with other people as possible. 

A big surprise was how much Sabine was going out of her way to talk with Ezra. It wasn’t necessarily a _lot_ , but Sabine didn’t just shut herself up in her cabin like she usually did. She would come down to the cargo bay and hangout under the guise of cleaning up Ezra’s look.

“Honestly,” Sabine said, picking up Ezra’s Inquisitor clothes. “It wouldn’t take much to change up your Inquisitor getup. At least these actually _fit_ you.”

Ezra glanced down at the oversized t-shirt he was still donning. It really was comically large on him which was endearing and made him look much younger than his actual fifteen. Although it wasn’t _just_ the clothes. Ezra was small for his age. Kanan couldn’t be sure if it was malnutrition or if he was just genetically a smaller person. It wouldn’t exactly be advantageous for the Inquisitorious to starve their candidates.

Of course, the same could be said for torturing a child to within an inch of his life.

“What colors do you like?” Sabine asked, shaking out Ezra’s blacks and looking them over.

Ezra just stared at her for a moment. Kanan had to suppress a chuckle at the kid’s obliviousness. “Uh… what do you mean?” Ezra eventually replied.

“You know, _color_.” Sabine ran a hand through her blue and orange ombre hair. “Something _other_ than the boring greyscale the Empire insists on using.”

Ezra shrugged, petting a hand over his daiima’s head. “I don’t know… I don’t see anything wrong with black.”

“Black’s not a color,” Sabine said, slightly exasperated. “If you’re going to be part of this crew, you’re gonna have to _dress_ like this crew. And that means we say kriff it to Imperial ‘style’.” She folded up the blacks and tucked them under her arm before looking Ezra over with a critical eye. Kanan knew she was attempting overlaying different styles and colors over Ezra in her mind, but the gaze was making Ezra squirm uncomfortably. 

Then Sabine smiled and gave a short nod. “Well I’ve got some ideas.” She pointed at the pieces of armor which were sitting on top of the cold storage unit. “Mind if I take those as well?”

Ezra looked over at Kanan as if silently asking for permission. Kanan just gave a small smile. “They’re technically yours,” he said. “It’s up to you.”

Biting his lip, Ezra just shrugged. “I-I don’t care…” 

“Alright then.” Sabine swiped them, nestling them along with the rest of Ezra’s Inquisitor outfit. “I’ll be back later to grill you on designs.”

She turned to leave, missing how Ezra had immediately stiffened at the statement. Once she was gone, Kanan leaned over and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he assured. “Sabine tends to get a bit _focused_ when it comes to her art projects. Although you might want to try and think up some images or symbols you like.”

Ezra frowned. “What does that mean?”

Kanan turned slightly, displaying his own armor that Sabine had gifted him. “She painted this for me.” He ran a hand over the white symbol that decorated his pauldron. “This is a symbol for a Shriek Hawk, a Mandalorian bird. Evidently, the way I fight reminds her of the bird,” Kanan said with a half-smile. 

Ezra’s shoulders hunched over as he shrank into himself slightly. “I tried to arrest her…” he mumbled.

Kanan gave an amused huff. “You know, you’re not the only one who had a rocky start with this crew. The first time we met Sabine, she was trying to steal from us.” Ezra regarded him with some skepticism, which just made him chuckle. “We’ve all had a bit of a rough start on this ship.”

Ezra swallowed, his hands tightening on his daiima. She squirmed slightly with a small whimper under the painful grip. 

Nara let out a growl as their pain reverberated in the Force, and Kanan reflexively reached out and grabbed Ezra’s wrists. “Ezra, stop...!” 

There was a flurry of movement and a sharp change in the atmosphere. Ezra was pressed back against the wall, his eyes wide and glassy as he trembled. His daiima was huddled against Nara after having been kicked away. They were both locked up in fear, echoes of their memories overwhelming them. 

Kanan’s chest ached, guilt weighing down his heart. He hit the side of his thigh a couple times, purposefully putting more strength behind the strikes to make some bruises. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “But you were hurting her…” _Hurting yourself_.

It was probably the wrong thing to say, because Ezra looked down at the burn scars on his hands, shaking his head hard. “No no no, I-I was just… control, just _control_ …”

“Ezra,” Kanan said evenly, trying to stay calm for the boy’s sake. “You’re with me on the _Ghost_. You’re not in trouble.”

“I-I’m sorry, I won’t…” Ezra visibly swallowed, his gazed suddenly focusing on Kanan. His hands were clenching and unclenching as he extended his arms out in front of him towards Kanan.

Kanan frowned at the action, staring down at the trembling limbs. Ezra was offering his arms out to Kanan like he expected Kanan to slap on a pair of manacles. Kanan growled as he pondered how to approach this. 

However, his stupid vocal tic sent a wave of terror through Ezra, his breath hitching as his entire body became stiff as a board. 

“Hey, no…” Acting on instinct, Kanan reached forward and wrapped Ezra’s cold hands with his own. “I’m sorry, it was just my tic. I’m not mad, I promise.” He reached up and gently placed a hand along the side of the boy’s neck. “Everything’s okay. _You’re_ okay.”

Ezra’s eyes were brimming with tears as they slanted in confusion. He was searching Kanan’s expression while fumbling along their bond, checking the truth of his statements. Slowly - _very_ slowly - Ezra’s body began to relax, his breathing evening out. 

Kanan gave a smile, though it was a bit forced. He might still be kriffing up, but at least he was decent at pulling Ezra back from the depths of panic. 

There was a small whimper as Ezra’s daiima slowly crawled out of Nara’s embrace back towards her jemma. Ezra didn’t turn toward her. In fact, he barely moved, but Kanan could feel his muscles tensing again. She wasn’t as hesitant as she used to be. Jumping onto the cot, she slowly curled up next to him, pressing her body up against his thigh.

A moment passed before Ezra reached down and put a hand on the side of her body, pulling her up more tightly against him. Ezra still looked a bit stricken, but at least he was still capable of reaching out to his daiima.

All in all, it was promising. In fact, Kanan was starting to feel bad about having to leave the _Ghost_ and its crew behind. He just didn’t see an alternative that would keep everyone safe.

It wouldn't be forever, he reminded himself. Just long enough for the incident with the Purge Trooper to blow over. Hopefully, Ezra and his daiima will have at least recovered to the point where they could discover her name.


	17. New Horizons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabine updates Ezra's look just before they arrive on Denova

“You must have _some_ personal preferences,” Sabine said dryly.

Ezra was pretty sure he should be offended by her tone, but all he could muster was confusion. “Kanan said _you_ chose the symbol on his pauldron…” he said with a shrug.

Kanan was leaning against Nara, asleep. For once, they were sleeping _together_. They evidently trusted Ezra enough now to do so, for which Ezra was very grateful for. Watching them sleep at the same time wasn't nearly as unnerving as when they slept separately. 

Frankly, if one ignored the horror of being torn apart, having a broken tether seemed quite advantageous for them overall. They could basically go and act as independently as they pleased. It was undoubtably how they had managed to stay hidden from the Empire for so long.

Sabine wasn't deterred by the slumbering pair. “Yeah, that’s because I already knew him. I don’t know you. So that’s what I’m doing now.” She crossed her arms with a huff. “Do you know what planet you’re from?”

It was with a grimace that the knowledge floated up to his foremind. It was another part of him that had been beaten down. It didn’t matter where he was from. He lived to serve the Empire. Now that he thought about it, Ezra wondered if he had been sent to Lothal for his first mission as a test of his loyalties. 

Turned out his homeworld couldn’t turn him, but just a few days with a fallen Jedi could.

Sabine was tapping her fingers, becoming increasingly impatient. “It’s fine if you don’t know,” she stated.

“No, I do…” Ezra cleared his throat. “I-I’m from Lothal.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You’re joking.” 

He shook his head, his fingers tangled in his daiima’s fur. “I-I think it was a test. To see if I could carry out my duty on my… _home_.” The last word was like gravel in his throat. It was difficult to think of it as home. He barely remembered it beyond the occasional flash of moments with his…

… parents.

“Okay, yeah, that makes sense,” Sabine said slowly. “At least, when it comes to the Empire,” she spat out under her breath.

The statement had so much emotion behind it, there had to be a personal story there. All at once, Ezra remembered that he also knew almost nothing about this Mandalorian. Nothing beyond her fluency with technology and her artiness. And with Kanan’s warning, he knew that art was incredibly important to her. It was literally splattered on her armor. 

And hell, he knew Hera even less. She seemed… nice? The Twi’lek was the pilot, the leader of the ship, and seemed close with Kanan. Someone that Kanan obviously trusted. Kanan was just so much more open and relaxed with her than anyone else.

But Kanan really was the only one he knew. Frankly, Ezra was okay with that. Kanan was his master. Ezra owed him everything. Everything about his life right now… It was easy for him to just submit to Kanan. He wasn’t a Jedi, he wasn’t an Inquisitor, but he _understood_. And Ezra knew that his best recourse right now was to follow Kanan's every word. Because otherwise, he risked his entire grasp on reality crumbling and grinding him down to dust. 

Sabine’s voice brought him back to the moment. “Well, what important iconography does Lothal have?”

Ezra could only stare at her. “Important…. What?”

“Oh, you know, symbols and cultural figures that embody Lothal's culture.”

That was an enormous task to ask of Ezra. Lothal was just… Lothal. The planet he was born on. Anything beyond that were just traditions and stories his parents would tell him. Like… 

“My parents would tell me about these legends,” Ezra started to say slowly. “They would say that the heart of Lothal is the Gateway to... a world between worlds. And they said we were the guardians, sworn to safeguard the Gate. And in turn, we were protected by the Wolfriders, bound to one another for eternity.” Ezra swallowed, hunching his shoulders up. “They rode the Loth-wolves, their soul partners.”

Sabine hummed, scribbling on her datapad. “What did Loth-wolves look like?”

Ezra frowned, trying to remember the visuals his parents would show him during the stories. “Um… actually, kinda like Nara…” he murmured, thinking about the markings. “Big wolf with…” He streaked his fingers over his face simulating the patterns he saw in his bedtime stories that mirrored the ones Nara had. 

Was Nara a Loth-wolf?

Ezra looked over at Kanan and Nara on the platform. The artwork Ezra grew up with was a bit abstract, and he was probably just making random connections. It’s not like his memory was all that reliable. He was probably just being stupid. But… Nara _did_ look so much like the paintings he had seen… her markings and proportions…

Ezra shook his head. He was focusing on details that didn’t matter.

“I can work with that,” Sabine said. “What about this supposed ‘Gate’? Any symbols relating to that?”

Ezra shook his head. “No… It was just described as a ‘howling cycle’. I mean, it was _all_ symbolic…”

“I mean, obviously.” Sabine tapped her datapad. “But I’ve got some ideas.” Then she gave him a genuine smile. “By the time we reach Denova, I'll have a fresh look for you.”

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but he was relieved that she was done grilling him for now. 

It turned out that reaching Denova was just the following day. They weren’t able to go down immediately. It had been years since Kanan and Nara had been here. With the ongoing expansion of the Empire’s power, they couldn't be sure it was still the safe place it had once been.

Hera and Kanan were in the cockpit taking scans of the planet when Sabine came back to the cargo with just a slight bounce in her step. “It’s finished~”

Ezra frowned, looking at the bundle in her arms. He was surprised by the muted colors. It didn’t look at all like the nearly psychedelic patterns decorating the Mandalorian’s armor. 

Nara stepped up to her, lowering her snout to the bundle to look at the armor. Then she cocked her head to the side slightly, her ears twitching. “Is that… me?”

“Not… exactly.” Sabine set the pile down next to Ezra, picking up the pauldron in question. “Ezra said that there are wolves in Lothal's culture that look like you, so I used you as a model.”

Nara hummed, her head still cocked slightly. “Well it looks good, Sabine. I think it suits him.”

“Thanks, Nara,” Sabine said, practically beaming.

Ezra reached over and smoothed a hand over the clothes. Now that he could see it up close, he recognized the same basic pattern of seams of his inquisitor outfit. The black had all been bleached away to the muted orange, parts of it dyed blue. The gorget and knee cops were a darker blue, and the other pauldron had a stylized orange ‘5’. 

He picked up the pauldron with a frown. “Five…?” 

Sabine shifted and shuffled almost sheepishly. “Look, I know you and Kanan are leaving for a bit, but… You’ll both be back eventually. And you’ll be back to stay. So you’re going to need a callsign, and it’s certainly not going to be ‘ _Eye See Thirteen_ ’. I’m Spectre Four… So you’ll be Spectre Five.”

A strange mix of emotions stirred in the space behind Ezra’s collarbone. Hearing his Inquisitorial designation made him anxious and nauseous, but it was somehow underwhelming compared to the somehow _separate_ wave of nausea at the thought of being a Spectre… a member of this crew. 

It was a horrifying thought. It was _wrong_. Ezra couldn't be a part of this crew. He owed his life to Kanan but beyond _that,_ he was nothing.

Ezra tried to swallow the nausea down as he put the pauldron back down. There was no way he could wear that, but he certainly wasn’t going to say that out loud. The Mando might kill him if he rejected her art, no matter the reason.

“Go on and get changed,” Sabine said, indicating the refresher. “I wanna see you in your new look, make sure it actually looks good on you.”

Ezra suspected he had no choice, so he grabbed the pile and stood. His daiima shifted into a canary and perched on his shoulder as he walked over to the refresher.

It was actually nice to be back in his own clothes. Beyond the fact that they were tailored to fit his body, it felt like he belonged in them. The clothes from Nar Shaddaa were like a costume. He wasn’t the regular normal person the clothes tried to make him out to be. He was Eye See Thirteen… 

Ezra tapped the palm of his hand against the side of his head. No, he wasn’t. Although even so, he definitely wasn’t just a normal person.

The pauldrons were left next to the sink as he turned and looked at himself in the mirror. He ran his hands over the orange and blue fabric. It might feel the same as before, but it looked completely different. _He_ looked completely different.

[ _I like it_ ] his daiima said.

[... _It’s okay._ ] He honestly wasn’t sure what to think of it. 

When he stepped out of the refresher, he felt the Mando’s eyes immediately on him. “Where’re your pauldrons?”

Ezra gestured back to the refresher. 

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Any particular reason they’re not on?”

Ezra shrugged, not wanting to explain that the thought of wearing that ‘5’ would make him feel sick. “It’s… It’s not like I _need_ the armor right now.” It was the best excuse he could come up with.

“Yes, but _I_ want to see how the whole package looks.”

He had no idea how to respond, so he just crossed his arms and looked down at his feet. He really hoped she didn’t force him to put them on. He just wanted to hide in a corner, maybe somehow put Nara between the two of them for good measure.

For once, luck was on his side, because before Sabine could push him further, Kanan walked into the cargo bay. When he saw Ezra, he gave the Mandalorian a smile. “Good job, Sabine.”

“Thanks, but he won’t put his pauldrons on! Says he doesn’t need it.”

Ezra tightened his arms around himself, his daiima nestled up against his neck. He _really_ just wanted to disappear… 

Kanan sighed. “Well, Hera and I finished our scans. No sentients or signs of mining equipment. It’s safe, so he’s not wrong.”

“That’s not the point! I worked hard on those designs, and I wanna see Ezra’s complete look before you guys leave us for weeks and weeks.”

“Sabine,” Kanan more firmly. 

He didn’t say anything else, but Sabine finally stopped talking. Ezra glanced up and over at Kanan, and his stomach flipped when he saw that Kanan was giving Sabine a slight glare. He hoped he didn’t just get her in trouble. 

Finally, Sabine closed her eyes and sighed. “Well, you do look infinitely better than you did in those street clothes,” she said to Ezra.

Ezra nodded. Hard to argue with her on that. “Thanks,” he said genuinely.

Sabine smiled, which put Ezra a bit more at ease. “No problem, kid.”

* * *

It had been... _disappointing_ to see that the Empire had _not_ taken over this small but vibrant planet. It was actually a little surprising since it was completely habitable and likely had a wealth of resources to be extracted. But perhaps its proximity to Mandalorian space had kept the Empire at bay for now. 

Hera had to push down her grimace when the scans finished. Now there really was no way to convince Kanan to stay on the ship. She knew it had been a long shot, that Kanan and Nara would have simply looked for another planet or moon to hide on. But it was a sliver of hope that she had clung to.

But no. Denova was clear of the Empire and abundant enough to sustain anyone who had basic survival skills. So in an hour, they would be disembarking and leaving the _Ghost_.

At the moment, Hera was working to find a decent place to land. They would make sure that Kanan and Ezra were settled in with the base supplies they needed for a long stay… before she, Chop, and Sabine left.

Hera’s heart was heavy. It was just _hard_ knowing Kanan and Nara were going to be leaving the ship. Temporary or not. They would have a secure channel that could be used in emergencies but beyond that…

A part of Hera recognized that she was being childish. Selfish even. Ezra and his daiima were in such a precarious position right now, particularly mentally. Keeping them safe from the Empire was a no brainer. 

But Kanan and Nara have been a part of this ship and this life for nearly eight years now. They had changed and grown so much in that time. When they had first come aboard, they were a chaotic storm of raw pain. Nara had been fiercely, sometimes _violently,_ protective of Kanan. In the early years, it had been quite difficult to help the two of them work through (at least parts of) their past. But Hera could see the kind man buried beneath the layers of bravado and vulgar quips... the nurturing and gentle wolf shrouded by hyper-vigilance and rage.

And they did eventually emerge. Little by little. First to Hera, and eventually to others. When they first met Sabine, it had been a real testament to Kanan’s progress that he was able to connect with her and nurture her trust. At least, enough trust for her to join the _Ghost_ and let down her guard. They really were like a small family.

Knowing that their family was going in separate ways - even for just a while - was difficult to accept.

Chopper piped up, stating that he found a plain near a southern mountain range where the _Ghost_ could land and take off effectively. 

Hera nodded, dipping the _Ghost_ downward to enter the atmosphere. “Copy that. Preparing the landing sequence.”

Chopper rolled up beside her, grumbling about her being in a bad mood.

“I’m not in a bad mood.” Hera sighed. “Of course I’m upset about them leaving, but it’s only for a while. And we’ll be keeping busy in the meantime.”

Chopper hummed before bemoaning that he would no longer be able to torment Kanan.

Hera managed a half smile. “Well again, he’ll be back eventually…” The more she said it aloud, the more she could convince herself that it would be true. She had no reason to think it wouldn’t be, but… it made her feel better.

Denova was quite a beautiful planet. It was relatively temperate, the mountains in this continent were old and worn down into gentle slopes, covered in thick forests. They transitioned down into the orange and green plains where herds of grazing animals were wandering. As the _Ghost_ approached the ground, a flock of birds took off to avoid the landing ship. 

The _Ghost_ landed, and Hera finished shutting down the ship. Then she sat there, frozen in her position. She didn’t want to move. The sooner she moved, the sooner she would be going down to the loading dock. The sooner she went down to the loading dock, the sooner the camping and survival supplies were off loaded for Kanan, Ezra, and their daiima. And then Hera would have no reason to stay. In fact, she had already lined up two potential jobs so they could quickly start earning some credits again.

She had to move. 

Hera inhaled slowly, holding it for a moment… before exhaling. And then she stood and took the ladder down to the loading dock. The ramp was already down. Sabine was putting out a couple survival kits and a box of what Hera assumed was rations and first aid supplies. Once again, Hera had to remind herself that Kanan had a comm line directly connected to the _Ghost_. If anything truly went wrong… he could call her. 

Sabine sighed and looked out over the plains and the nearby mountain. “I guess if you’re going to go hiding anywhere…”

Hera nodded, stepping up beside her. “It is quite beautiful.”

They stood in silence. She knew what was going through the young woman’s mind. It was the same that was going through her own. And they were both the more miserable for it. 

“... I hate this,” Sabine whispered.

“I know,” Hera replied. “But again, it’s…”

“... only temporary,” Sabine bit out. “I don’t care, and I’m tired of hearing it.”

“Fair enough.” 

Hera turned to put a hand on her arm, but Sabine shrugged it off and stepped away. “Don’t comfort me, I just… need to stew.” She glanced up at Hera. “I’ll be fine.”

“... Alright,” Hera said softly.

There was the familiar hiss, and they both turned to see Kanan walking out of the cargo bay, followed closely by Nara. Ezra wasn’t far behind, his daiima perched on his shoulder in the form of a bird. His newly colored outfit looked good on him and were certainly a better fit than the second hand clothes. He wasn’t wearing his pauldrons so he did look a little bare, but overall, it suited him.

Kanan’s expression noticeably softened as he looked out at the planet, a low growl emanating from his throat. Hera wondered what was running through his head. This was the site of one of the biggest turning points in his and Nara’s life, a place of both pain and recovery. And they had been so young at the time… 

“I gotcha a box of ration bars and some med supplies, just in case,” Sabine said, kicking the short stack of boxes. “I know you’ve survived here before with less, but it can’t hurt.”

“Thank you, Sabine,” Kanan said with a smile, reaching forward to put a hand on her shoulder. 

As expected, she stepped back from him, giving him a strained smile. “Just… don’t die.”

He gave a lighthearted chuckle. “We won’t.”

Sabine’s smile twitched, becoming a bit more genuine, before she walked toward the back of the loading dock. She paused briefly as she passed Ezra. 

Ezra glanced up at her, his brow furrowed in with nervous confusion.

The Mando opened her mouth, but then seemed to think better of it. She gave his shoulder an awkward pat. “Watch Kanan’s back. He’ll need it.”

Ezra’s frown deepened as he glanced between her and Kanan. “H-He will?”

“Yeah…” Sabine gave a half-glare back toward Kanan one last time. “He will.” 

Hera gave a silent chuckle as she rolled her eyes slightly. Either Sabine was being blithe or intentionally threatening at Kanan’s expense. From Kanan’s smirk, he merely found it amusing.

Sabine disappeared up the ladder to the cabins, and Hera returned her attention to Kanan. “She just needs some time.”

“I figured,” he said with mirth. His gaze swept over her. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” Hera said with some added emphasis. “This is for the best. And…” She gave a humorless huff. “... it won’t be forever.”

Kanan’s smile softened as he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. It was a chaste kiss, only lasting a moment, but Hera sighed into it as she committed to memory the warmth of his lips and the musky smell that always lingered on his skin.

When Kanan pulled back, he gazed down at her with his eyes slanted in affection. He maintained eye contact as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his comm, making a point. “We’ll be _fine_.”

Hera smiled and nodded. “I know.”

Kanan put the comm back in his pocket, his gaze lingering. “Hey Ezra, help me carry these supplies.”

Ezra nodded, trotting up to grab some of the survival kits before carrying them down the ramp. Kanan flashed Hera one last smile before turning to help him. 

All too soon, the supplies were offloaded, and the ramp closed. Standing alone in the loading dock, Hera closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

It wouldn’t be forever.


End file.
